


Underneath

by cutiesonthehorizon



Category: Chicago Med
Genre: Angst, F/M, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, Whump, Whump Exchange
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-28
Updated: 2019-01-07
Packaged: 2019-09-29 10:26:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 35,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17201768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cutiesonthehorizon/pseuds/cutiesonthehorizon
Summary: There are some things buried in the past. Some are buried in the future. For Connor, both of those collide in a rather unfortunate present. Written for Whumpexchange Secret Santa.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [the-wandering-whumper (water_4_willows)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/water_4_willows/gifts).



> A/N: This fic was written for the Whumpexchange Secret Santa. My giftee was the wonderful Marie The Wandering Whumper. Her prompt was collapsed building. While the story veered quite off of the original prompt, I tried to encompass as much as possible. I hope you will all enjoy.
> 
> The fic is completed, chapters will be posted daily. Unbetaed for time reasons. Please be gentle in criticism as I am not a healthcare professional, nor do I have any practical knowledge about legal, police or other work depicted in the story. Thanks for understanding:)

There was something exciting about going against Lanke, Connor thought. The man was a jerk and for a moment Connor almost missed their good old Dr. Stohl but only almost. The scary thing was that Lanke could be equal part brilliant and competent or a total idiot who saw only his own goal and sadly it was not always in agreement with the patient.

Connor grimaced at the thought of having to go into outright war with the man, but at the same time, he was looking forward to it. The fact Ava seemed to appreciate him being a bit more pushy and standing up for himself and his patients made Connor that more convinced he was doing the right thing. Now he only needed to convince Sharon Goodwin of that as well.

With a sigh, Connor discarded his scrubs and reached for his shirt. His shift was up and he was hungry, having missed lunch due to an emergency. He noted the door to the changing room opening but didn't look who came in. Sooner he got out, sooner he could get some food and maybe a glass of Scotch on the rocks at Molly's. He felt like throwing darts and chatting with the guys, letting off some steam, knowing well that Ava was on a double shift and would be staying behind.

Thinking about the devil... a pair of gentle hands wrapped around his chest just as he was finishing buttoning up. A smile crept onto his face as he felt a warm breath brushing at his ear and a familiar weight resting on his shoulder.

"Careful, nurse Susan. What if someone saw us?" he uttered in a secretive voice, even as he took one of the hands in his own, pulling it towards his mouth and giving it a light kiss. The other hand of course went for his ribs and Connor pulled back with a mock startle that quickly changed into a chuckle when he saw Ava's raised eyebrow.

"Really? You're ditching me for a nurse that is twenty years my senior?"

"What can I say. I like older, bossy women," Connor quipped with a smirk, this time expecting the slap on the shoulder.

"Oh, you want bossy? I can do bossy," Ava said with a smirk of her own and Connor felt his pulse quicken. Without much thinking he grabbed Ava's hand and pulled her closer, their bodies flush as he gave her a hot kiss. She responded in kind and for a moment the hospital around them seemed to vanish. Until somewhere a child started wailing. The sounds came rushing back at them and with a sigh they pulled apart, faces flushed.

"Oh well, you will have to show me later I suppose," Connor said, his voice reflecting the regret about having to wait. Until Ava waggled her eyebrows and pursed her lips.

"Maybe I can show you tonight."

"Well, I'm all up for kinky Ava, but I'm pretty sure you might be missed for your second shift."

"What if I told you there's no second shift? I have to finish some paperwork, but it seems that Dr. Latham will take over the night shift."

Connor frowned, a bit surprised at the information.

"Really? Why?"

Ava looked a bit affronted.

"I would've thought you would be a bit happier about me having a free night?"

"Oh no, I _am_ happy," Connor said with a smile, giving her a quick peck on the lips to appease her. "I'm just wondering why would Latham want to take a night shift all of a sudden. It's not his style."

"He didn't tell me the details, but it seems his mother in law is visiting and she and his wife planned a ladies night. Latham seemed a bit scared by the concept."

Connor chuckled.

"Yeah, that I can imagine," he said with a laugh. "So, anything special you want to do tonight?" he asked, eyes twinkling with mischief. Ava ran her hand over his chest with a seductive smile.

"I can come up with a thing or two. Provided you'll give me an hour or so to finish some paperwork."

Connor grimaced at the word paperwork, but nodded.

"Sure, perfect. If you want to stay inside it gives me plenty of time to get us some good wine and take out."

"That sounds nice," Ava agreed then with a sigh pulled away and headed for the door. „I'd love some white wine tonight," she said from the door and left Connor to finish dressing.

Few minutes later, Connor was walking towards his car in the hospital parking lot, thinking what take out would go well with white wine and whether he should stop at the shop or just get home and order everything. He was parked on the further end of the parking lot today as there seemed to be some work being done on his usual parking spot when he arrived in the morning. It was a bummer, especially as he didn't like to keep his expensive car further away from the security, but he was already running late in the morning and didn't have time to go looking for a better spot. So he was relieved to see his car still in place and intact as far as he knew. He was almost at the end of the lot and in the darkness of the night the lamps were casting strange shadows. For a second Connor had a feeling that someone was behind him so he turned around, but the lot was empty. Most of his colleagues from the morning shift had already left.

He was alone. Shaking his head, Connor turned back towards his car. He noted there were two other cars parked on each side, one of them a bit too close for comfort. Connor reached his car and first thing he did was check the passenger side for any scratches or dents... the small Chevy was parked in a way that the opening door could have left some damage. But there was nothing and Connor scoffed at his own paranoia. Something made his skin crawl and he couldn't put his finger on it. He just felt a chill run down his spine and he really hoped it was the hunger and weariness after a long day rather than a start of a cold.

His phone beeped with a message and Connor pulled it out to look at it, while also taking the keys from his pocket. He was standing by the driver's door, one hand poised with the keys to unlock the car, the other thumbing down to read the message. It was from his sister Claire, but Connor didn't get to open it.

There was a sound of a car door opening just behind his back... the van's door slid aside and Connor turned his head to look, almost dropping the phone, startled. He barely managed to turn his head, when a pair of gloved hands grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled back. The phone fell from his hand, cracking on the pavement, but he still clutched the car keys. He was thrown off balance, his body smashing against the side of the van momentarily as the other person tried to pull him inside the van but couldn't manage. The momentary startlement turned into panic and as instinct kicked in, Connor started to fight back.

He tried to turn around and look at his attacker, but there was a heavy weight on his back as he was once again slammed against the car and a meaty arm curled around his neck, pushing against the windpipe.

_'What the fuck?'_ Connor's mind screamed at him but he was unable to make a sound as the arm kept pressing down. With the adrenaline setting in, Connor started trashing around, kicking at whatever he could reach, using his elbow to slam into his attacker. For a second there was a pained grunt as his elbow hit the target and Connor felt the grip let up a bit. He used the small space and leaned his legs against his own car door, giving a heavy push and sending both himself and his attacker crashing against the side of the van and partially inside it through the open door. The grip on his neck relented and Connor scrambled to get off of his momentarily winded attacker. What he wasn't counting on was a second man to be in the van already. Well, maybe man was a bit inaccurate. It was more of a teenager... with wild, scared eyes that made Connor pause. That was a mistake he realized when he saw the teen move quickly and felt a jab of a needle in his shoulder. Connor grabbed the hand holding the needle, but not before the plunger was pushed and he felt the content enter his body.

"What-?" Connor pulled the needle out and threw it away, ignoring how it rolled out of the van and down onto the pavement. He didn't feel any different and couldn't really tell what was in the injection but he knew he didn't have much time to ponder it. He had to get out, get help, before it started working.

The teen didn't say a word, just watched as Connor tried to get out of the van. But he took too long and the other man was already back on his feet. Connor couldn't see his face, the man had a black ski mask hiding it but it was apparent that he was in good physical condition and was driven by some deep anger. Connor managed to push him off as he grabbed his arm, but the lack of space between his car and the van played against him this time. The attacker was blocking his way back towards the hospital and turning the other side would mean to expose his back once again to attack.

Connor didn't know what to do, but the adrenaline pumped hard through his veins along with whatever drug was in the injection. He charged and head butted his attacker, trying to roll over him and run towards the hospital, calling for help. Unfortunately, even though he managed to push the attacker down, the guy grabbed his leg and sent him sprawling painfully on the asphalt as well. The breath was knocked out of Connor as he fell and before he could get it back there was someone heavy lying on top of him, blocking his movement and making it damn hard to take in any breath.

Connor still struggled, trying to push the man off, but as the seconds ticked by, he could feel his strength waning. The drug... whatever the hell was in that injection had started working. Connor still kicked and tried to head butt his attacker, but the man was holding steady, aided by his younger companion and Connor was lacking air. He was also lacking the will to fight and after a minute or two which seemed like eternity to the doctor, he gave up. There were dark spots appearing in his field of vision... it was as if the lights in the parking lot were going out, one by one, until all he could see was dark gray. The sounds dulled and the feeling of panic slowly dissipated. It was as if someone had thrown a sack over his head. He could see, hear and feel, but everything was muffled, in the background. It was happening to someone else. Connor felt as if he was floating over his own body, a disinterested observer.

He knew he should be scared as he felt his body being hoisted up and pushed inside the back of the van. He could feel haphazardly tied rope pulling his hands backwards, he could hear the two men cursing and looking around the parking lot, making sure they weren't seen. The masked man then jumped inside the back of the van, sitting down next to Connor. The van door slid close and the teenager must've been behind the wheel because Connor heard the car start and could feel the vibrations of the engine running through his body laying on the cold floor.

"Let's get the hell out of here," the other guy said pulling of the mask from his face. Connor should have been scared to death at that point. He had a good view of the face, familiar in some ways. He knew that meant they were planning to kill him. But the drug coursing through his system didn't allow for fear or for clear thinking. Connor lay there on the floor, listening to the laughter of the man as he rolled around hitting the walls during every turn of the car. Sometime during the ride Connor's eyes slipped closed and he knew no more.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

Connor was floating. Not in the sense of happiness, more in the sense of being disconnected from his body. Sensation was slowly coming back and Connor became aware of himself, started to feel his body. He knew he was in a sitting position, he was aware of every breath he took, the rhythm of his heart beating loud in his ears. But there was no light, nothing he could see.

The first thought passing through his mind was that he was sleeping. His mind felt sluggish and slow and Connor would've just fallen back into that unconscious state if not for the signals from his body. He felt uncomfortable. There was pain and Connor didn't understand why. If he was asleep, he shouldn't hurt. Yet he could feel hurting muscles and bruises all over his body. His head was throbbing and his right shoulder felt really tender. He tried to move his hand and rub away the pain, but his hand didn't move. Something was holding it down to the chair...

Connor's breathing sped up as panic set in. The cobwebs were slowly but surely raising from his mind and more and more sensation came rushing at him. He was indeed sitting on a rather uncomfortable chair. He could feel his legs, tied to the chair legs. There was some movement, but not much. When he turned his hand into a fist and tried to pull away, he felt the rope burn against his skin. Biting down a yelp, Connor stilled as the reality of his situation sank in.

He was somewhere cold and dark, tied to a chair. Wait, maybe it wasn't so dark after all. There was a light pressure around his head, like a bandage...

_'No, not a bandage. A blindfold,'_ his brain supplied and Connor couldn't stop the shudder.

_'What the hell happened?'_

He tried to remember, to think back but his mind was still fuzzy. There were images of a surgery, of different patients. He remembered Ava and something about food. His stomach gave a growl of protest, letting him know that he didn't get to eat lunch... or dinner. What the hell happened then? Where was he? And why? Was Ava with him or not?

The thoughts were rushing through his mind, becoming louder and louder as his body was shaking off the effects of whatever drug he was given. Connor was sure he must've been drugged. His head hurt, but it wasn't the pain from an injury. More like a hangover. But he wasn't drunk either. There was a fleeting memory of an arm wrapping around his neck and a pain in his shoulder... he must've been injected with something. That explained the memory loss as well.

Connor took in a deep breath, trying to calm down. Right. He was drugged and tied up, but otherwise unhurt. He wasn't sure where he was or how much time had passed, but since he was still blindfolded, chances were good that whomever took him wasn't planning to kill him.

All the signs pointed to kidnapping for ransom.

The idea didn't make him any happier or less scared, but at least it was something he had thought about before. He was the son of Cornelius Rhodes after all. His father was in the eyes of the public too often not to attract the wrong kind of attention. If that was indeed the case Connor was just thankful it was him and not his sister Claire who became the victim.

_'Okay, calm down,'_ Connor thought, forcing the feelings of nausea and panic down _. 'If they want ransom, they won't hurt me. Much. And dad would pay. Probably. I just need to stay calm.'_ It was like a mantra and for a few minutes it worked. Until his ears caught up with the sound of approaching voices. Connor froze, breath hitching. Someone was coming. Should he scream for help? He was blindfolded but wasn't gagged. What if it was help?

Connor opened his mouth but something made him pause. The voices seemed agitated, but they didn't sound like Connor imagined a search party would. And the fact he wasn't gagged was a clue enough. Whoever was his kidnapper wasn't worried about Connor making noise. So instead of letting whomever was approaching know he was awake, Connor let his head slump down on his chest, pretending sleep. Maybe he could figure out what was going on, before he would be required to interact with his kidnappers.

There were two voices, both male. Connor couldn't make out what they were arguing about, if they were even arguing. There was muttering and a sound of reproach, but as the men came closer, the voices stopped. All Connor heard were footsteps and it made his skin crawl. He was sure that they were looking at him, approaching from behind. He could smell the difference in the air... a distant smell of alcohol and cigarettes mixed with a scent of body spray. From somewhere else he could also smell sweat.

Feet were shuffling, the floorboards giving a too loud screech that made Connor flinch involuntarily.

He was right. Someone was watching him.

A finger jabbed into his neck and Connor's head shot up.

Someone laughed and there was more movement around Connor. He felt like a swimmer in the sea, with several sharks circling him. The only difference was that he couldn't see a thing, couldn't anticipate where the attack would come from.

"W-who are you?" Connor asked, giving up the pretense of sleep.

"Well, looks like he's alive after all," the voice spoke from behind his back and Connor winced.

"Took your time, Rhodes. Seems that you have less of a tolerance for drugs than I would've thought." The man chuckled but it wasn't a happy sound. The words were tinged with darkness and disdain and Connor was taken aback by that.

"You know my name," he said, now sure this was a ransom attempt. But something didn't fit. The words and the tone... Connor had a feeling things weren't as simple and that whatever was about to happen he wouldn't come out of it unscathed.

The man didn't react to his question. Instead he leaned over so close that Connor could smell the beer on his breath. He tried to pull back but with no avail. The ropes didn't let him and the man gave a satisfied grunt as his fingers ran over Connor's binds and checked their tightness.

"I hope it's not too tight. We wouldn't want you to lose those hands. You're a surgeon after all, aren't you?"

"Why are you doing this?" Connor asked then jumped as something landed in his lap. He heard the rustle of paper. Newspapers?

Suddenly the blindfold was pulled off. Connor blinked, blinded by the single bulb hanging overhead. His heartbeat picked up and he didn't know if he should try to look around or close his eyes in an attempt not to see his attackers. Not to give them reason to kill him.

Before his eyes could adjust however, there were several flashes of light and a click of a camera.

"That shall do. Let's hope your daddy still loves you just as he did when you were seventeen."

The blindfold was roughly pulled back down over his eyes. Before the stars completely vanished from his eyesight, Connor caught sight of two men. Well, one of them was a man, the other looked like a boy, not older than sixteen.

"Wait, what-" Connor tried to protest as he felt something else brushing against his face. As he opened his mouth though a dirty rag was pushed in and swiftly tied at the back of his head. Connor made a sound of protest but all he received was a slap on the head and an order to "Shut up!"

So he did.

"Keep an eye on him, bud. If he moves, feel free to shoot him. I'm gonna make sure dear old daddy Rhodes receives the message."

There was a sound of a magazine being inserted inside a gun and a click.

"O-okay, Tee. Be back soon?"

"Sure, bud."

The guy was gone and Connor was left alone with the kid. He should have been thinking about a way out, but all his mind was stuck on was the comment about his father and the age seventeen. About all the other jibes aimed at him, about the face of the older guy that looked so familiar.

Slowly, oh so slowly, the picture started making sense and Connor definitely didn't like what it was showing him.

* * *

The rag in his mouth tasted of motor oil and Connor had to fight down his growing nausea. It wasn't just the taste though. His head still felt fuzzy from whatever drug they injected him with and being blindfolded just strengthened his panic. He could hear the boy moving around, shuffling his feet nervously. The thought of a gun being in the hands of a nervous kid made Connor's skin crawl, as if in expectation of the burn of a bullet.

Was it really possible his kidnapping was more personal than he thought? Was there a connection to what happened in his past? Connor forced his mind to come up with the memories of Joshua. Did he have any siblings? The nausea in his stomach escalated as he remembered a young boy looking up at his friend with reverence in his eyes, just before they told him to stay home, that he was too small to accompany them. Somewhere in the corners of the memory there was also the sound of a baby wailing and Joshua rolling his eyes, muttering something about his need to get out of the madhouse and stop listening to the racket. Connor had laughed then and said something about Joshua being lucky he had brothers and not a sister. That was only few weeks before they were busted.

Connor's breath caught at the realization. He froze then as his lungs realized he needed to breathe, he pulled in a lungful. That was a mistake. The stench and taste of the rag hit him full force and he started coughing, his mind screaming at him not to sick up because he would choke. It was no help. His body seized in protest and Connor hacked and gasped around the gag, trashing on the chair and praying that someone would just pull the stupid rag out.

He was so occupied by his struggle for breath and to stop his gag reflex that he didn't realize the boy moved closer until he felt shaky fingers pushing against his cheek and pulling the rag out, so it was now resting below his chin.

Connor took a deep breath, then spit out, trying to get the taste out of his mouth. He didn't succeed but at least he could take deep gulping breaths and didn't have to worry about choking on his own spit.

For several minutes the room was silent, except for Connor's breathing and occasional cough. Once his lungs calmed down a bit, Connor started paying more attention to his surroundings. The rag was out of his mouth and he could talk, but was it a good idea? The kid was obviously nervous and had a gun. Connor took a moment trying to get a feel for the situation. He was tied up, blindfolded in some building that from an earlier glimpse looked to be in desolate state. He could feel the cold air and wind on his skin, hear the distant sound of traffic. There was creaking as if from an old window pane that Connor haven't noticed until now, maybe because it was so damn repetitive. It sounded almost like the house was breathing, moving.

The darkness under the blindfold kept Connor disoriented and feeling like he was trapped in a bad dream. Oh, how he wished this was all just a bad dream. But the chances for that were getting lower by the minute. Connor didn't remember any of his previous dreams feeling so real and scary... he didn't remember them tasting of motor oil and grit.

More shuffling steps and the sound of a click, as if the kid was checking the magazine of the gun brought Connor back to the reality. He needed to talk to the kid. To try and convince him to let him go, before the older guy, before _Tee_ returned. Could it be short for Tommy? Tommy, his good friend's little brother. Too little to join them in their attempt to buy some drugs.

Connor had to take the risk. Clearing his throat, he started gently, as if testing his own voice.

"Hey." Connor grimaced, the word sounding startlingly loud in the silence. The shuffling stopped, but no shot sounded. Connor took it as a sign that he could continue.

"Uh... thanks. For taking it off."

"Don't... don't thank me," the boy spoke and Connor turned his head towards the voice. It sounded afraid but also a bit pissed and he wasn't sure if it was a good idea to continue, but he saw no choice.

"Please... I don't know what you want from me," Connor said, playing up the confusion a bit. Maybe if he made the kid think he was still under the influence of the drugs he would think him less of a threat.

The boy scoffed.

"I thought doctors were supposed to be smart."

Under other circumstances Connor might've smiled. Now he just grimaced.

"Yeah well, med school didn't cover kidnappings."

"Maybe your rich dad should've warned you about it instead." There was the contempt Connor was familiar with. Being from a rich family had made him become familiar with it, even though it was mostly just a look or an offhanded comment from far away. From people that couldn't hurt him. Hearing it now just stirred up old memories.

"Yeah, maybe he should have," Connor decided to agree with this one. "Uh... I... my head is a bit fuzzy. What-what's the time?" Or day, Connor thought because he was a bit fuzzy on the date as well, although that might've just been because of the busy week.

"It's nine," the boy said somehow reluctantly as if that information could help Connor in any way. Connor tried to remember when he finished work but couldn't for the life of him remember the time when he left. Though if it was as usual, he was gone for almost three hours now. His next shift was in the morning, which meant that he most probably won't be missed until then. Of course there was the nagging feeling that maybe someone was waiting for him right now and once his father received the ransom note, he would probably call the police. The thought made Connor uneasy.

Would his father call the police or would he try and resolve the situation himself? And would his father even be willing to pay for him? Connor had a distinct feeling that there was a no negotiation policy in his father's firm. He wasn't sure, however, if it included close family members as well. Would he even want to be an exemption? Would he really want his father bailing him out once again?

Maybe he could stop it before it went too far.

"Please... just let me go. Just take my car... you can sell it." Connor offered a quick fix, knowing it was possibly grasping at straws.

The boy chuckled bitterly.

"Tee must've hit you on the head hard. Do you really think he would go this far for a stupid _car_?"

Connor shook his head.

"I'm not talking about him. Take my car, hell, take the keys from my apartment. I can give you cash... just let me go. I won't call the cops until you're long gone."

Now the boy laughed.

"Ya crazy. I'm not ditching my bro for the likes of you. Especially not for _you."_

Connor swallowed. The boy just confirmed his suspicions. They were brothers and they seemed to have some kind of vendetta specifically against him. Well, there was nothing to it. Connor thought he might just as well bite the bullet, so to speak.

"Why me? What... what did I do to you?"

There was silence, then the shuffling resumed and Connor found himself tracking the sound with his head. The footsteps on the wooden floor stopped right in front of him. His breath hitched as he felt a cold nuzzle of the gun resting against his forehead, a warm breath smelling of gum brushing against his skin.

"You ruined our lives. You and your rich daddy."

Connor gulped, unable to stop the shaking of his body. His forehead burned where the gun touched it as if it was pulled right out from a freezer even though he knew it was just his imagination. Must've been.

"H-how? I don't... I've never met you before."

The nuzzle of the gun was pushed harder against the skin of his forehead, sure to leave an indentation, before suddenly letting up.

" No, you never met me. But you sure as hell met my brother."

Connor swallowed.

"J-Joshua?" he asked and the moment the name slipped out of his mouth he knew he was right. The boy in front of him let out a harsh breath, then a string of curses. Before Connor could protest or try to explain, try to beg for forgiveness, the rag was roughly pushed back in his mouth, the knot pulled even tighter.

Connor's breath hitched and his fingers curled tight around the arms of the chair he was tied to. He knew he was in deep trouble and this time not even his father's money would be able to get him out of it.

 


	3. Chapter 3

_'Why aren't you picking up?'_ Ava thought as she ended the call before the voicemail even stopped its spiel. She put the phone down with a frown and put on her jacket. The paperwork took much longer than she anticipated, mostly because halfway through she was called out for a quick consult. Feeling a bit annoyed by the delay, and definitely looking forward to a hot bath and that glass of wine with Connor, she tried to call him and let him know she'll be late. But the man wasn't picking up and Ava huffed. There was a strange tingle of foreboding when Connor didn't pick up on the second call, but she pushed it away. He was most probably caught in the traffic, or taking a shower himself. It was nonsense to be worried. Still, as she said goodbye to one of the orderlies and slipped out into the cold winter night, she pulled out her phone and tried for the third time. The phone went straight to voicemail.

With a sigh she headed for her car. Connor probably just forgot to charge the phone and was too busy trying to figure out the right wine to buy. Or he fell asleep on the couch.

Ava smiled a bit at the thought. Maybe she could sneak up on him and repay the comment about nurse Susan. Feeling in better spirit, Ava let her mind turn towards her patients, reviewing the cases in her head even as she started the car.

She waited for another car to pass by and slowly followed it outside of the parking lot, already looking at the nearby lights. Maybe if she sped up a bit she could catch the green light...

Ava turned her head and in her peripheral vision caught sight of a familiar car. Her foot instinctively eased from the gas pedal and she slowed down.

Was that Connor's car? What was it still doing in the parking lot? She slowed to a crawl and was startled as a car horn blared from behind.

Deciding quickly she pulled to the side of the road, letting the other driver pass, then found a nearby parking place.

"You better not have fallen asleep in the car, Connor," she muttered under breath as she stepped out and headed for Connor's car. There was no mistaking it. Not many doctors could afford that model, even less of them would feel comfortable with parking it outside. The tingle of worry inside Ava's belly started to grow.

Maybe Connor's car broke down, so he took a cab. Or he decided to walk home. There could be many reasons why he wasn't picking up his phone. Ava reached the car, giving a wary look at the two cars parked next to it. The small Chevy she recognized as belonging to a younger orderly. She didn't know whose was the other car, but it was familiar too, probably one of the nurses on the night shift. But that didn't matter. What mattered was that Connor wasn't there. What mattered was the cracked side mirror and the dent in the side of the car which was scarily shoe shaped.

Ava looked along the car, looking for more damage but she didn't find anything else that would raise her concern. She returned to the driver's door and peered inside, even trying to open the door. It was locked.

With a sigh Ava took a step back, leaning a bit against the other car, thinking what to do next. She could head to Connor's apartment, hoping this will all be explained by some stupid story about an accident. Or she could return to the hospital and ask the security for help.

She was thinking it over, once again trying to dial Connor's phone but to no avail. She felt at the same time stupid, like she was making an elephant out of an ant, but there was also that foreboding and fear that something bad had happened to Connor and that every second she spent here, lagging, could cost him.

Coming to a decision, Ava straightened and headed back towards the hospital. She barely made it two steps however when her foot stepped onto something small and oval. She heard the crunch and cringed, slowly moving her foot away.

The parking lot lights were a bit far off and casting more shadow than light at this point, so Ava had to turn on the battery function on her phone.

The sight made her freeze. On the ground were the remnants of a syringe, clearly used. There was still a bit of liquid glistening on it. Ava swallowed and squatted down. She knew better than to touch the syringe and there was no way to tell what it held without a laboratory test. It could've been used garbage from the hospital somehow getting out, it could've been a needle used by a drug addict. But the fact it was so close to Connor's car made her shudder. She grew up in South Africa. While she lived quite a sheltered life in the better part of the town, she heard the stories. Hell, one of her teachers was robbed at gun point twice while waiting in his car for a green light. She heard all the stories as a child and knew where the signs were pointing.

With the feeling of foreboding clutching at her chest, Ava leaned down a bit more, careful not to touch the syringe or the shards. She just wanted to look at the ground, to make sure there wasn't anything else she might've missed.

The light of her phone shone under Connor's car and for the second time that night Ava froze as she spotted Connor's phone just a feet under the car, right behind the wheel. She reached for it then paused. If her instincts were right, she should be careful of fingerprints.

Using her own phone, she just slid Connor's phone on the ground without picking it up. The display was dead and broken. It looked like it met the pavement with the display part first. That explained why Connor wasn't picking up.

Ava swallowed and made another wider arc with the light. There, not that much further lay a set of car keys. Ava closed her eyes for a moment, trying to calm down her breathing. The only thing easing her growing panic was the fact she didn't see blood anywhere. There were no pools of red, Connor's body wasn't lying next to the car. But that didn't mean he wasn't hurt or in trouble. And with all the evidence she had seen, there was really only one thing Ava could do. She stood up, leaning heavily against the other car and dialed Jay's number.

* * *

Connor didn't know what was worse. Knowing that this was all personal and so partially his own fault or the sensory deprivation. Ever since the angry 'Shut up!', the boy haven't spoken a word, didn't utter a sound. The only thing Connor heard was his own breathing and heartbeat, which was thumping loudly in his ears. The lack of visual input made all of this look like a horrible nightmare. It was surreal and as the time seemed to come to a halt, Connor couldn't stop the memories of Joshua from crashing back with vengeance.

_They were both only seventeen, full of stupid ideas and feeling rebellious. They both wanted to escape something. Connor wanted to let go for a moment and forget his mother jumping off the balcony. He wanted to stop thinking about his father who was lately either issuing orders or ignoring him in lieu of bringing home another new catch. Most of the time the catch was a girl not much older than Connor and it irked him to no avail. What was Joshua's motivation Connor wasn't that sure. The boy had seemingly two sane parents and younger siblings. Connor didn't think there was something wrong going on in his family, except for the fact they never seemed to have enough money. For clothes, for food... for fun. Connor would've thought that was one of the reasons why Joshua spent his time with him, but he knew better. Joshua never asked him for money. If he couldn't get something, he simply didn't. That didn't mean he couldn't get in trouble. On the contrary. Ever since Joshua joined one of Connor's classes, they clicked. If there was an authority figure nearby, they made sure to disobey it or cause havoc._

_Connor wasn't even sure whose idea it was to try and score some drugs. When some other kids mentioned they got good weed and pills from some dude in the park, Connor just rolled his eyes. After all, if he wanted to get out of his mind all he had to do was sweep his father's pricey whiskey. He dismissed the idea and for several weeks forgot about it. Until the date of his mom's death drew closer and as usual, it started to affect all the members of the family. Claire was more moody than usual and decided to stay over at her friend's place. Connor's father on the contrary decided to spend the anniversary of his wife's death by bringing another eye candy into the house. Connor didn't appreciate that, still blaming his father for his mother's death. This felt like another betrayal so of course they got into a huge argument and Connor ended up storming out of the house._

_He headed for Joshua's place automatically, knowing his friend would at least try to be sympathetic to his plight. Maybe it was just bad luck or it was faith that on that day Joshua also got into a fight with his parents, in his case it was over the grades. So two angry teenagers met at the park, neither of them having a better place to go to. When Joshua spotted a strange looking guy lingering on the edge of the field, watching the nearby football game, he elbowed Connor in the ribs._

_"I think that's him."_

_Connor didn't know what Joshua was talking about. The boy rolled his eyes and mimicked a smoking motion._

_"You wanna try something better than your pop's whiskey?" Joshua asked provocatively and Connor frowned._

_"Are you serious?"_

_"Totally. What... you're too good to try some weed? Or are you just scared?"_

_Connor didn't like to be called a coward and even though his gut was telling him this was stupid... his brain was telling him to go for it. If nothing else it would make him forget his darkest memories for a while. And if it backfired, well... at least it would make his father mad. At that moment all Connor wanted was making his father feel just as hurt and betrayed as he himself was feeling when Cornelius Rhodes led another bimbo into his bedroom on the anniversary of his wife's death._

_Connor quickly learned that he should always listen to his gut. He learned an important lesson about doing stupid impulsive things when letting anger lead his choices. But obviously, the most important thing he still had to learn took him years. By the time he realized that a momentary discomfort or fear on his part should never stop him from doing the right thing and stand up for people who needed it, it was too late for Joshua._

_The guy in the park turned out to be an undercover cop, only too happy to catch a couple of teenagers and hopefully dissuade them of trying drugs ever again. Too bad it worked only partially. While Connor got out of charges thanks to his father, Joshua wasn't so lucky. The six months in juvie were enough to give him lessons about real drugs and send him on his way into addiction._

_Connor could still feel the pain and horror of the realization he was partially to blame for Joshua's death and it might've been one of the things that pushed him further into medicine. He wanted to help people ever since his mother jumped off that balcony, but now he also needed to help them. To try and atone for what he perceived as one of his biggest failures._

_It seemed that faith had its own way to get payback however._

Connor was now stuck here, tied to a chair, blindfolded and gagged while his kidnappers were hoping to get paid by his father. Connor wasn't sure if he should cry or laugh about it. The thought that what once saved him from prison and caused another's death should once again save his life was just ridiculous. Connor didn't even want to entertain the idea whether his father would be willing to pay the ransom. He didn't know how much money Joshua's brothers were asking for, though he was sure his father could come up with any sum they would throw at him. No, the money wasn't the issue as much as the question whether Connor's father thought him worthy enough.

Sitting there motionless, surrounded only by the silence and darkness was getting on Connor's nerves. The occasional shuffle of feet made him wince, the mechanical click of a gun being played with made his heartbeat skyrocket. Or maybe it was just the remnants of whatever drug they used to knock him out before.

Time was meaningless and Connor was almost thankful when he heard the sound of the door opening somewhere far away. His mind kept conjuring painful memories that were intercepted only by thoughts of his possible demise. Maybe the ideas in his head were worse than whatever 'Tommy' was going to come up with. Connor didn't know. But he wanted this waiting to stop. He wanted this whole nightmare to just be over.

The kid - and Connor still didn't learn his name - abruptly stood and Connor heard the click of a gun. There was a rapping knock on the wall nearby, a signal.

"It's just me, bud," Tommy's voice sounded and Connor could hear a breath of relief. At least someone felt relieved. It sure as hell wasn't Connor though. His whole body tensed in anticipation of what, he didn't know.

"What happened? How... how did it go?" the kid asked with shaky voice.

"He got the message. Relax, kid. Now we just have to wait and see."

Connor could hear steps, then startled as he felt a warm pungent breath on his face.

"We will see how much the old man is willing to pay for you, doc. And well, if he won't, we can at least have some _fun_. God knows I was waiting for this chance for too long."

Connor shuddered and it must've been just what Tom wanted to see.

"Hell, maybe I'll get my fun even if dear daddy of yours pays. It would be long overdue." The coldness of the tone sent shivers down Connor's spine and a deep feeling of foreboding hit him. Tommy wasn't in it for the money, or well, that wasn't the only reason. He wanted revenge. After years of bottling up his anger, he finally got his hands on Connor.

He wasn't expecting the fingers cradling through his hair, even less them turning into a fist and pulling, causing his head to snap up and follow.

Connor let out a pained breath that changed into a growl of protest. The fist in his hair tightened and gave one violent shake, pulling a few strands of hair, then just as suddenly let go. Connor's headache flared up and he grimaced, letting out a grunt.

There was a chuckle, then the gag was pulled out of his mouth and Connor took a deep breath of fresh air, tongue running over his lips as he was trying to get rid of the foul taste. He wanted to spit, but didn't dare.

„Anything to say, _doctor_ Rhodes?" Tom asked with a snarl and Connor wondered how smart it was to open his mouth. But he couldn't just stay silent.

"I'm sorry," were the first words out of his mouth and his own voice made him cringe. "I was trying to make amends, but I just... it was too late." Connor was struggling to find the right words, to explain how he was just a stupid kid and what he did was wrong. That he truly regretted his choices... but this wasn't the way.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Tommy snapped and Connor shut his mouth, feeling the fist curl around his hair once again. He could feel the anger radiating out of the other man and knew there was no way to explain. And no chance to plead for forgiveness. Connor swallowed, then let out a hiss as Tommy's fist gave his head a violent shake.

"Joshua."

The name came from the kid, who must've been standing nearby, because Connor could hear the slight shake of the voice, even though it was meant to be a whisper. Tommy went still.

"What?" This time the question clearly wasn't aimed at Connor but at the kid and Connor felt the fingers in his hair let go, his head sagging down in relief.

"You told him?" There was anger in the voice and for a second Connor felt sorry for the kid, but that feeling quickly vanished. After all, the kid wasn't the one tied down to a chair at this moment.

"No! I swear, Tee... he figured it all out. I didn't say a word."

There was silence and Connor imagined Tommy was giving his kid brother a scolding look. Or maybe it was a proud one. Connor had no way of knowing as his senses were all over the place and hearing got him only so much information.

"Well then, there's no reason for this pretense I suppose," Tommy said suddenly and the blindfold was pulled off of Connor's eyes.

Connor let out a hiss as his eyes were once again subjected to sharp light. Or maybe it wasn't so sharp, Connor realized as his eyes finally adjusted and he could see the lonely light bulb hanging over his head. Blinking away the tears he swore were caused by the sudden light, Connor took a moment to get his bearings and look around properly.

He was in a bare room, the walls covered in graffiti. He could see another chair in one corner and a bundled up sleeping bag in the other. There was a small electric heater by the sleeping bag, but it was either turned off or broken. The only window was boarded up and the wooden floor seemed to be rotting in some places. Connor was truly surprised there was any electricity as he thought the house must've been long abandoned. But then he saw chargers plugged into a multiplug and cables leading out of the room into a dark hall. Most probably the electricity was stolen too. Connor wondered whether there was a chance of someone coming to his rescue because of a complaint about stolen electricity and it was such a weird thought that Connor wanted to give himself a slap.

Here he was, kidnapped by a man who wanted to avenge his dead brother and instead of trying to save himself or talk him down, Connor was focusing on details that had no bearing on his survival. Giving himself a mental shake, Connor turned his eyes towards the true threat. Just in time to see Tommy approach.

Connor couldn't stop the wince.

"You look so much like him."

It was a stupid thing to say.

Tommy stopped in his track, his whole face frozen in an unreadable mask. The kid behind him took in a harsh breath and Connor knew he won't get a chance to fix this. He could see Tommy's right hand curling into a fist. He saw his breathing speeding up, the blankness on the face in sharp contrast with the deep hate emanating from his eyes.

Connor expected the fist hitting his face. Yet when it came, he was still surprised at the force and the pain that exploded in his cheek.

"Don't. Don't you dare even _think_ about him, you fucking bastard!" Tommy seethed as Connor's head snapped back at the punch.

Connor grimaced, blinking away the stars in his vision. He could feel a trickle of blood running down his cheek and knew the fist broke skin. His hands tightened around the armchair, instinctively wanting to reach up and check the damage, to reciprocate the punch or try and protect himself from more damage. But his arms were tied down and Connor had no way of protecting himself. He looked at Tommy and saw his jaw clenched tight, pupils pinpoint. He was high on something and Connor knew that meant nothing good for him.

"I'm really sorry," he said, but this time he aimed the words at the kid. Connor wasn't even sure what he was apologizing for at this moment. Whether it was Joshua or the fact the kid was pulled into this madness by someone who should've been looking out for him. It didn't matter though. The kid blinked, the look of confusion and startlement enough to give Connor a bit of hope. That was before he heard an enraged roar and felt another punch land on his chest. The force behind this one was strong enough to topple the chair.

For a second he felt weightless, the air forced out of his lungs by the punch. The next second he let out a scream as the chair fell and Connor landed on his side, his left arm taking the brunt of his weight. There was a distinct crack of a bone breaking before the pain hit him. The sharpness of it was almost enough to make Connor spill his breakfast. It was enough to make him gasp for breath.

But it wasn't enough for Tommy to stop. Connor's pain obviously spurred the anger in him, or maybe it were just the drugs. Once Connor was down, Tommy started kicking wildly, uncaring of whether he hit the chair or Connor. As the hits landed, Connor wished for sweet unconsciousness. He was sure Tommy was going to kill him. His body tensed up with each kick and soon Connor wasn't sure where the pain was coming from. Whether his broken arm or the bruises all over his body.

Time seemingly became irrelevant. He couldn't say whether Tommy was kicking him a minute or an hour. All Connor was conscious of was the pain coming in waves and the sound of angry grunts. Somewhere in the background there was also the kid shouting. Connor didn't care, as long as the punches stopped coming, as long as he could get enough of a break to take a breath his lungs were screaming for.

"Tee, stop! If you kill him we won't get the money!" The kid kept shouting and just when the words penetrated Connor's own fuzzy mind, they must've gotten through to Tommy as well, because the attack stopped.

Finally there was the reprieve. Connor let out a sound he truly hoped wasn't such a pathetic sob as it sounded to him. Judging by the deprecating snort from above and the wad of spit that landed just inches from his face, Tommy wasn't impressed either.

"You're right. We can always finish him once daddy Rhodes pays up. That's what he does after all."

With that Tommy clenched and unclenched his now bloody fists and headed for the door.

"I need to grab a smoke."

The kid nodded, looking almost relieved. Without hesitation, he leaned down over Connor, as if he was about to pull the chair back up.

"Leave him!" Came a barked order and the kid paused mid motion. "That's where he deserves to be. On the floor, like garbage. Nothing else." With that Tommy walked out and Connor was left lying on the cold ground, eyes clenched from pain. The only thought on his mind was that he wasn't going to survive this.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This one is a bit short, but the next one is coming tomorrow and that should make up for it:) Wishing all a great New Years Eve! <3

Cornelius Rhodes was in the middle of a rather unsatisfying dinner with one of his would be business partners. The problem wasn't the food of course, even though that steak could have been a bit more done as Cornelius wasn't a fan of half raw beef. No, the problem was his dining partner who despite Cornelius's best efforts didn't want to bend from his demands on the business model they should be using to market his products.

If the man had been just a bit more open to negotiation, Cornelius felt the deal would have gone through several months ago. Right now he was trying to appear unbothered, even interested in the man's pithy tale about his family name and accomplishments. As if Cornelius Rhodes didn't know what it took to handle the business and keep the good name of the family.

Usually Cornelius would have ignored the silent vibration of his cell phone in lieu of the business meeting. But he was just about fed up and realized there was no way around it... he would have to accept the demands that came with the deal. It wasn't like they were all that unreasonable or bad for him. He would still make profit. No, this was more about pride and his initial assumption that this deal would go down without a hitch that stood in the way of signing the deal. That and the fact that after three months of clowning around, Cornelius had a true dislike for the man sitting in front of him and boasting proudly about his son's latest accomplishments in the business.

So when the phone vibrated with a text message, Cornelius smiled and made a polite excuse before taking a look at the message. He was hoping it was something that would give him a reason to leave this dinner prematurely. Or well, if it wasn't, he could still fake it.

The message was from an unknown number. Cornelius frowned. Not that many people had this phone number and they usually knew he preferred talking over messaging. Still, he clicked the message open and read the short text. Then re-read it twice more, just to make sure he wasn't imagining it.

'We have your son. 2 million dollars in cash. No cops. You have five hours.'

"This must be a joke," Cornelius muttered under his breath, earning a confused look from his companion.

"Anything the matter, Cornelius?"

"No, Sebastian. Must be some prank call, that's all," Cornelius said and put the phone down on the table, but kept his hand on it. Maybe he should make sure it was only a prank and nothing else. Maybe he should call Connor.

Cornelius grimaced. He really didn't feel like calling his son this late in the evening without a proper excuse. Admitting he might have been worried seemed just a bit silly, especially if Connor picked up the phone, all hale and without a care in the world. But still, the message sounded menacing and Cornelius felt that familiar worry in his stomach. This wasn't the first time he thought about one of his children being kidnapped. With his line of work and the amount of money that went through his hands it was a surprise that no one made an attempt earlier.

While Cornelius's companion kept chewing on his food and returned to his talk, Cornelius felt the phone vibrating again. His fingers curled around it instinctively and this time he didn't even excuse himself. He looked at the display and was dismayed to get another message from the unknown number.

'I'm not kidding. Here's some proof.

If you want your son to see the light of the day again, be ready in five hours.'

This time there was a picture attached to the message and Cornelius clicked to open it.

Suddenly someone had turned his blood into ice. That was the only explanation for why he felt frozen to the spot when he saw the photo of his son, tied to a chair, his hair ruffled and bleary eyed, staring right into the camera. In his lap was the latest edition of the daily newspaper. Cornelius didn't have to zoom in on the date to know it was from today. He read that paper just this morning during breakfast.

The half eaten steak in his stomach turned into lead. For a moment all he could do was stare at his son's face and think how disoriented and scared he looked. Maybe not to an outsider, but Cornelius knew his son. Knew that set of his jaw when he was afraid but still trying to appear strong. Cornelius didn't blame him. At this moment he felt scared too.

All those years in the business, all those scenarios running through his head, but at the moment he didn't know what to do. Who to contact. Was it better to pay or try and negotiate? What were the chances of his son getting out of this alive?

Suddenly the lead in his stomach became unbearable, the air of the restaurant too stifling. The smell of food and wine combined with the noise of people, conversing and laughing as if there was nothing wrong with the world. It was all too much. He had to go.

Cornelius sprung up from the chair, absentmindedly threw a wad of cash on the table and without an excuse turned and left. Sebastian was looking at him flabbergasted, a piece of steak frozen halfway to his mouth. Cornelius didn't notice. He walked out of the restaurant, his eyes pausing at his car with the driver parked nearby. He headed towards the car, ignoring the surprised "Mr. Rhodes? Everything alright, Sir?" from the driver as he quickly opened the door for him.

Cornelius sat down in the back seat and shakily reached for a tumbler of whiskey, pouring himself a stiff one.

"Sir?" The driver asked again, clearly worried about the uncharacteristic behavior. Cornelius waved him off and pushed the button closing the window between him and the driver, giving a clear signal that he wanted to be left alone for the moment.

Cornelius didn't know what to do and he hated that. The last time he let himself feel this way was when he saw the dead body of his wife laying on the pavement on their front lawn. He swore never to allow such an emotion of helplessness inside his heart ever again. The fact that Connor was the cause came as even more of a shock.

"Damn it all to hell!" Cornelius swore angrily, then poured himself another glass and swallowed it in one gulp. The sharpness of the drink somehow cleared his head. The warmth of the alcohol permeated his body and coursed through his veins, helping to bring along a certain degree of calm or numbness.

He needed to think this through and not do anything rash. While he knew the photo of his son was most probably real, he still felt a deep urge to just call Connor's number. With shaky fingers he tapped on the phone and waited for a ring tone or Connor's voice. Instead the call went straight to voice mail. That in and on itself was enough proof. As a doctor Connor made sure he was available on the phone at all times. Cornelius just had to accept the truth. Connor was missing and it was up to him to make sure he came home alive.

Cornelius put the empty glass to his head and closed his eyes, trying to think about his options. The money wasn't really the issue. While it might raise some eyebrows, Cornelius tended to make business at all times of the day or night. Taking the money out in cash might require more of a finesse but it could be handled as well. The main question was... should he involve the police? Or ask his security company for help?

When the phone in his lap started to ring, Cornelius dropped the glass, startled. His heart rate skyrocketed and for a second he blindly reached towards the sound, the smooth phone slipping through his shaky fingers and falling on the floor. Cornelius cursed with fervor as his hand searched for the familiar shape and let out a breath he didn't know was holding when he finally picked up the phone. This time the number on the display was familiar, yet it didn't bring any relief. Quite the contrary.

"Ava. To what do I owe the pleasure?" he asked, trying hard to make his voice sound strong and unaffected. Ava on the other end wasn't as successful however.

"It's Connor. I think... I think someone took him." Ava said and her own voice shook. Cornelius closed his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose to stave away the looming headache.

"What do you mean?" he asked, still trying to play it cool, if not for his sake than for Ava's. He knew how much the girl loved Connor... how far she was willing to go for him.

"We were supposed to meet at home, but his car is still at the hospital. There are... signs of struggle and an empty syringe. His phone and car keys were next to the car... Jay thinks he was kidnapped. Did you... did you hear anything?"

Cornelius felt his stomach turn at her description of the scene, but he went totally still when the full meaning of her words hit him.

"Jay? Who... who is Jay?"

"Halstead. Will's brother... he's a detective-"

"No! No cops!" Cornelius snapped into the phone and he could hear Ava pausing, startled. He didn't care. "We can't involve the police, Ava. I ... I can get the money together. We can get him back."

There was suspiciously long silence on the other side, then Ava's voice returned.

"I'm sorry, Cornelius. I didn't know what to do..."

"Where are you?" Cornelius asked, his voice surprisingly cold. He didn't hear any background noise but he wondered whether it was really that quiet or if he just couldn't hear anything past the roaring of the blood in his ears.

"Hospital... doctor's lounge. Jay is on the way."

Cornelius nodded.

"Stay there. I'll be there in fifteen minutes. Don't... don't tell him anything until I arrive, okay?"

Ava was obviously thinking about the answer but she promised to wait for his arrival. Cornelius ended the call and quickly gave his driver their destination. As the engine started and Cornelius thanked God that Claire was out of the States on business, his phone rang the second time. Cornelius didn't know the number that showed up, but it seemed to be local. With dread, he picked up.

"Mr. Rhodes? This is Detective Jay Halstead, Chicago PD. We need to talk."

"Yes, we do," Cornelius agreed, his heart heavy and stomach curling with worry. It seemed that some decisions were already taken out of his hand.

 


	5. Chapter 5

Connor wasn't sure whether he should be thankful for the cold that was permeating his skin or not. On one hand, it made him shiver uncomfortably, on the other the cold floor somehow helped to numb the pain. The bruises weren't so bad, although Connor was sure at least one rib was cracked and a kidney bruised. But the damage could've been much worse. Luckily Tommy in his rage didn't much differentiate where he was kicking and so the chair took some brunt of his anger. No, the worst pain was the broken arm. It was sharp and pulsing in time with his heartbeat, causing his breath to become shallow and quick as his body was trying to manage the pain. Connor lie on the floor, all of his weight on his left side and partially on the injured arm. His jaw was permanently clenched and eyes closed. He wished for the sweet escape of unconsciousness, but his body didn't let him, pumping adrenaline through his veins and making the situation all the worse. His legs were jittering in an instinct to get up and run, but he couldn't. Not with his armed kidnappers in the room, not tied to the damned chair. So instead he held his eyes closed and pretended to be asleep. He was hoping that could at least save him from more outbursts.

So far it seemed to work, although it had the downside of once again not being able to watch his surroundings. Still it was a small price to pay for a bit of reprieve, Connor thought and forced his body to keep still when he heard movement. Someone was walking across the room, steps too close for his liking, but never touching. Connor let out a silent breath when the feet passed by his face without attacking. At least it gave Connor an answer as to the person's identity. It must've been the kid. The steps paused at the end of the room, then returned, pacing nervously.

There was an irritated sigh and Connor flinched at the strangely loud sound. The steps stopped as well.

"What the hell is your problem, kid? Sit your ass down and rest. We will have enough things to do once we get the money."

"I just need to go," the kid said, sounding a bit embarrassed.

"Go where?" Tommy obviously wasn't impressed by his explanation.

"The loo, alright?!" the kid snapped after a second. Connor heard a chuckle.

"So go. What, do you need me to change your diapers or what?" Tommy snapped after a moment when the kid didn't seem to be doing anything except linger in the doorway.

"No. I just... wanted to make sure he stays alive until I get back. We need the money after all," the kid added as an afterthought.

There was an annoyed snort and Connor could just imagine the eye roll that came with it.

„I promise, I won't kill him while you take a piss. Now get lost, I can't watch you fidgeting any longer."

Connor listened to the sound of the boy's steps receding with growing apprehension. Despite Tommy's promise he didn't feel reassured about his safety. The hair on the back of his neck stood to attention and Connor realized his instincts were right.

There was the sound of movement and before Connor could open his eyes and look, there was a swift kick to his side. Connor hissed and opened his eyes, giving up the pretense of sleep. Tommy smiled cruelly.

"I knew you were just pretending, you prick."

Tommy squatted down so he could look Connor in the eyes and it was obvious he was enjoying the pain he saw. Connor knew he was expecting some reaction but what was there to say really?

"What, no questions of why I am doing this to you?'' Tommy asked, looking perplexed by Connor's silence.

"I know the answer to that," Connor admitted tiredly. "You want money."

„Yeah," Tommy answered with a smirk. "But if this was just about the money, I would have taken your sister. I bet papa Rhodes would've paid a better buck for her."

Connor cringed, unable to hide the worry in his eyes. The thought of Claire being anywhere near this creep was making him nauseous and for a moment he was glad it was him and not her. He just hoped she was okay and that whatever happened to him, his father would make sure nothing like that would happen to Claire. He also knew that Tommy was just baiting him, trying to get a reaction so he tried to hide the fear in a mask of indifference. It obviously didn't work that well however.

Tom looked at him, intrigued, a glint of cruelty shining in his eyes.

"Hm. Maybe I should go after her next. Just to make sure your father learns his lesson properly. But you don't have to be concerned about that now," Tommy placated Connor as upon hearing these words he let out an angry growl and attempted to get up. Of course the ropes were holding and all he managed was to make the pain in his arm spike and render him breathless for a second.

Connor heard Tommy laugh and he shuddered when the man gave a light, almost friendly pat to his face. Connor pulled back, but opened his eyes and glared at Tommy.

It must've been just what Tommy wanted, because Connor was greeted with a sick smile.

"I have something that will take care of all of your worries, doc." Tommy patted a pocket in his jacket, then pulled out a small bottle filled with clear liquid. He shook the bottle in front of Connor's eyes.

Connor blinked, feeling his panic rise. If Tommy injected him with something now, he would have no way of knowing what was happening, he would have absolutely no control over his situation.

Tommy laughed as if he was in on a good joke. He shot a quick look back towards the door, making sure his brother wasn't returning, then put the bottle back into his pocket and patted it. There was a light clink and Connor caught a glint of a syringe as well.

"Don't worry. It's for later. I wouldn't want to deprive you of all this fun of waiting around."

"What is it?" Connor asked, his mind going through possible drugs that would fit the color of the liquid in the bottle and their effects.

"Just a bit of good old liquid ecstasy... spiked with something else, for better effect. Don't worry... I have a big enough dose to make your suffering end quickly. Although that is a pity."

Connor blanched. Liquid ecstasy was GHB. It was bad enough on its own, mixed with some other substance he couldn't even imagine the effects. And not knowing what exactly was in the drug meant that if he was indeed injected, not even the paramedics right on the scene would be of much help.

"You... you won't get any money if I'm dead," Connor tried to protest, knowing he was grasping at straws. Tommy's smirk made that more than clear.

"On the contrary. I'll get the money and let your father know just where to find you. If I am lucky, he will get there in time to see you dying. If not, well. I'm sure the autopsy report will give him a nice picture."

Connor felt the nausea rising and he swallowed, his mouth suddenly too dry.

"Why... why are you doing this?" he asked despite his better judgment. "I didn't kill Joshua. I know I made a mistake. I should have talked to him sooner, tried to explain. I should have convinced my father to get Joshua a good lawyer, but this... this is going too far."

Even as Connor tried to explain, pleading for his life, he could see it wasn't working. His words were just making Tommy angrier, until he snapped.

"Too far? Do you want to know what's too far, doc?" Tommy snapped, spit flying out of his mouth. "It was your father who went too far, to save his 'precious' kid from jail. Do you even know what the bastard did? Do you know how he ruined our lives?"

Connor blinked, confused. In his mind the only thing his father did was pulling some strings so that the judge let him off lightly. Tommy had enough reasons to be mad at Connor, he was aware of that. But his father wasn't guilty of what happened to Joshua. At least not to Connor's knowledge. He remembered all too well the talk with his lawyer, advising him to just tell the judge the truth. That it was Joshua who first saw the dealer. That it was Joshua who tried to run as he was being arrested. And so Connor did, even though he tried to phrase it differently. He tried to tell the judge it was all just a stupid childish thing, that they had never done anything like that before. But the lawyer barely let him speak and his father... he was standing next to him and making it clear what was expected of Connor. Looking like he knew exactly how the whole process would end.

"I don't... what are you talking about?" Connor stuttered, feeling as if part of him was going to crumble.

"Your dear old dad convinced my bastard of a father that it was in Joshua's best interest to take the blame. He paid him _money_ to plead guilty in front of the judge... telling him that Joshua would get off with a warning, that his records would be sealed." Tommy's voice was low and carrying all the anger of his past. It was such a raw tone that Connor didn't for a second doubt he was telling the truth. Which made this whole thing so much worse.

"But he didn't go off lightly," Tommy continued and the anger was now colored by sadness. "My brother ended up in juvie. Dad took the money and after a fight with mom, he bailed. When Joshua came home... he was different. He spent six month in hell, knowing it was his own father and _best friend_ who sold him out."

"I didn't know... I swear I didn't know!" Connor said, shocked to the core by what he was told and feeling sick to his stomach. Now it all made much more sense. His father sending him off to Europe, the way his lawyer asked him to phrase certain answers if the judge asked. They made sure Joshua would take the blame instead of him.

Suddenly there was a hand grasping his chin painfully, making sure he was looking up at his captor.

"I didn't know." Connor repeated.

Tommy looked him in the eye coldly, then nodded.

"I might even believe that. But that doesn't change the outcome. Joshua's dead because of you and your father. Now it's your turn. And I'll make sure you will know how much Joshua suffered when he took that last shot."

"Tommy, come on. You don't want to do this to yourself. Or your brother. They will find you. Please don't-"

But Tommy was done listening. He grabbed the discarded rag and roughly showed it into Connor's mouth, tying it tight.

"A bit too late to worry about me and my brother, doc. If I were you... oh well. I'm not."

Tommy gave Connor a condescending pat and stood up just as his brother returned to the room.

"What's going on?" the kid asked, instantly suspicious when he saw the smirk on Tommy's face.

"Nothing, squirt. The doc here was just a bit too chatty and I grew tired of his whining. Keep him silent, will you?"

The kid blinked, but nodded.

"Where are you going?"

"Just gonna check the perimeter. I need some fresh air." Tommy pulled out a pack of cigarettes, then patted his other pocket pointedly and gave Connor a wink. "It stinks in here."

With those words, Tommy left and the kid stood by the door, awkwardly eyeing Connor.

"You okay man?" he asked after a moment but Connor couldn't answer. He couldn't even think... his mind filled up with memories of the night of the arrest. All he could see was his father's grim face, he and their pricey lawyer exchanging hushed words before turning to Connor and letting him know in no uncertain terms what was expected of him. At first, Connor balked at the idea of leaving Joshua taking the blame. But just like Tommy said... the lawyer convinced him there would be no long term repercussions for the boy. That in fact he had already confessed, all Connor had to do was give the same statement. So he did, blindly believing the two people who were supposed to tell him the truth. He should have known he was expecting too much.

Once Connor stepped in front of the judge he got practically a slap on his hands. He was released with a warning and a ridiculous fine. When he asked after Joshua, all he was told was that they shouldn't be in contact. Connor protested fiercely, wanting to make sure his friend was indeed alright as promised, but his father didn't want to hear a word of it. Before Connor could sneak out of the house where he was practically under house arrest, his father shipped him off to an early winter vacation to Europe.

He returned a month later, the experience all but forgotten, except for the nagging feeling that he should check on his friend. But when he managed to sneak out from under his father's watchful eyes all he found at Joshua's house was a sign that it was sold. It took him a few days to find out that Joshua was in fact still locked up. Connor was furious then, at his father... at himself. But more than anything, he was afraid. Afraid to truly contact Joshua and apologize. So instead he hid in textbooks, hoping that his school accomplishments would get rid of the deep shame and feelings of betrayal. His father was happy with his grades and changed demeanor. Connor stopped causing trouble at school, stopped going out. Instead he spent more and more time in books. Cornelius Rhodes thought it was so he could continue in his family legacy and join a prestige business university. But Connor felt the shame and need to fix things to be too overwhelming. He wanted to change things. He wanted to fix _people_. So he decided to go to medicine.

Saving people made him feel useful. He knew he was privileged, that he came from money and this was the way to pay back to the society. To wash away his own sins.

But it seemed that once his life started to settle into some sense of normalcy, his sins came right back wearing the face of revenge and wielding drugs as the weapon of choice.

Connor couldn't get out of his mind the look on Tommy's face. It was such a deep hatred that it left no place for doubt. Tommy wanted him dead, he wanted to see Connor and his father suffer.

For a moment all Connor could think of was how much he didn't want to die. Not now, not like this. The air seemed to be getting too thin and his chest felt too tight, the pain from his arm thumping sharply along with the various bruises. But the fear... the fear was the worst.

"Hey, what... what's wrong?" the kid asked and Connor realized he must've moved without him noticing. The boy was now kneeling in front of him, a look of fear mixing with worry. Try as he might, Connor didn't see hate in those eyes. Maybe... maybe that was his chance. If he could convince the kid, maybe he could still get out of this alive. But it wouldn't work if he was gagged and unable to talk. He had to think fast. If his sense of time wasn't totally off track, Tommy will contact his father about the money in the next hour or two. Connor wasn't sure what was his plan, if he would leave to take care of the phone call or if he would just take Connor with him and inject him with the lethal dose even before the money exchanged hands. Connor needed to take every chance, starting right now.

Closing his eyes lightly, Connor's face contorted in a grimace and he let out a choking sound. It wasn't so hard to play up the pain he was in, or the hazard of choking the gag posed to him. He just needed to be careful not to overdo it and make himself sick for real. He wasn't sure whether he had the kid pegged right or not and choking on his breakfast wasn't in the plan.

"Damn!" the kid cursed and shuffled a bit closer as Connor heaved and trashed on the chair, the few tears of pain rolling down his cheek not played at all. Connor was exhausting himself and he dearly hoped it would pay off or he was screwed.

One more choked cough and Connor's eyes snapped wide open in panic. That did it. The kid leaned down and quickly pulled out the gag. Connor spat out a wad of saliva mixed with blood from a busted lip, then kept heaving until he managed to calm down his lungs a bit.

"Pl-lease, you... have to help me," Connor let out, his voice shaking and showing his true fear. "He wants to kill me!"

The kid took a step back, startled, but shook his head.

"No, we... we will let you go once we get the money."

Connor wished it would be so easy. But he knew better.

"No. He told me... he plans to use the drugs on me. He wants me to die of overdose... just like Joshua did."

The name of his brother made the kid freeze and Connor thought he might've just made a mistake. He grimaced and let his head fall back on the floor, seemingly exhausted and at the end of his wits.

"What... what's your name?"

The kid bit his lip and threw a look towards the door, as if expecting his brother to show up any second. Connor hoped that wasn't the case. He wasn't ready to deal with Tommy yet.

"Come on... either you'll kill me and it doesn't matter... or you'll let me go. The cops will figure out who you are either way."

The boy gritted his teeth, then shrugged.

"Eric. You can call me Eric."

Connor nodded and let out a sigh, then grimaced. Maybe he couldn't convince Eric to let him go yet, but if he could just convince him to do one small thing it would be a first step. What Connor needed the most right now was to get the pressure off his arm and side. The pain was making it hard to think clearly.

"Can you help me a bit, Eric?" Connor asked and watched as the kid jerked at hearing his name.

"I'm sorry, I can't let you go," Eric said instantly and took another step back, as if making sure he didn't do anything stupid.

"I know," Connor said with a sigh. "That's not... not what I wanted," he said, swallowing hard and licking at his dry lips. His whole mouth was parched, the corners of his lips raw and cracking from the gag rubbing against them so hard.

"I just... that arm is killing me. I need... need to change position."

Eric started to shake his head right away.

"Tommy said to leave you there. I can't-"

"He said to leave me on the floor," Connor corrected him, then made the face that usually worked even on Maggie. "Please, just... turn me on the other side or something? It... it feels like my arm is being sawed in half. I can't... can't stay like this."

Eric seemed to hesitate.

"Eric, please. I... I'm really sorry for what happened. But Joshua... he wouldn't want this."

Eric's eyes went cold and his whole posture stiffened.

"Well your sorry won't bring him back now, will it? And I have no clue what my brother would have wanted. I have never really met him."

Connor swallowed the lump, but he couldn't stop now. If nothing worked out, at least he owed Joshua to try and save his youngest brother from making the worst mistake of his life.

"He would have never endangered you, I know _that_."

"What?" Eric blinked, suddenly confused. "What are you talking about?"

"He loved you and your family. He pleaded guilty in front of the judge... he wouldn't even give up his own friend. Do you-" Connor paused, hissing as a sharp stab of pain shot up his arm. "Do you think he would risk you getting into trouble?"

Eric seemed to take in his words, then shook his head.

"I have no way of knowing that. He's gone. He was gone all my life." It was said in such a tone that Connor wondered if Eric had any feelings toward Joshua at all. As if reading his thoughts, Eric gave a somehow sad smile and shook his head.

"I'm not helping Tommy because I want revenge. I don't really care for what happened. It's long gone. If anything, I blame our father. If he wasn't such a jerk, Joshua probably wouldn't ever tried to buy drugs in the first place."

"Then why?" Connor asked, truly confused. "Why all this?"

Eric swallowed and rubbed at his eyes, clearly fighting back some strong emotions.

"Our mom died just a few weeks back. Cancer. We... we lost everything. So we need the money, to start again. That's all. Just the money."

Connor closed his eyes. He felt for the kid, he really did.

"This isn't the way to go, Eric," he whispered. "Tommy should have never involved you in this, not like this."

Eric shook his head.

"I didn't give him a choice," he admitted. "And... I wanted to make sure he won't do anything stupid."

Connor snorted. As if this wasn't stupid enough. Eric realized what he said and when Connor opened his eyes, he could see a blush of embarrassment on the kid's face. He didn't have the time for this... or the energy.

"Please, just... turn me around. I can't feel my fingers anymore..."

Something in his tone must've convinced the kid, because the next moment he nodded and a pair of hands grabbed the chair and Connor's legs. It took a bit of work, but Eric managed to roll the chair and Connor in such a way that he ended up lying on his right side instead.

Connor wanted to thank the kid, but he couldn't. The movement caused the broken arm and all the other bruises to flare up and Connor had to bite down hard on his tongue to stop himself from screaming. The pain made the world turn white and Connor thought he might've lost consciousness for a second. Next time he opened his eyes, Eric was kneeling right next to him, wide eyed and shaking his shoulder trying to rouse him.

Connor blinked, then moaned, because the shaking was just making the pain worse. He was hit by a sudden nausea and without warning started heaving. Eric jumped back and Connor moaned at the coppery taste in his mouth once the heaving stopped. Thankfully he didn't ate anything for quite a while so it was mostly bile... mixed with blood. Of course. He managed to bite his tongue so now it bled. Spitting and coughing, Connor struggled to push himself and the chair a bit back, not keen on having his face so close to the mess.

"Oh God, are you okay?" Eric asked and Connor couldn't stop the snort coming out of his mouth. It quickly changed into coughing however and all he could do was to croak out "water".

Eric seemed hesitant, but as Connor spit out some more blood and added a "please", he just nodded and was out of the door with a simple "I'll be right back."

Connor bit down another moan. He was running out of time and he wasn't even sure if he should keep up trying to convince Eric to let him go. With the way things were going, he might just make things worse for himself and Eric as well.

He was about to just let go and maybe give in to the pain for a moment. The change of position really wasn't kind to him. Though at least now he could maybe check out his arm. He felt tingling in his fingers as blood was returning there and the pain had somehow ceased into throbbing, as surprising as it was. Connor turned his head a bit and saw that while his arm was swollen and the rope was starting to cut into his skin, it wasn't an open break. He had to be thankful for small mercies at least. Now maybe if he could just move his arm a bit to the side, it would ease the pressure of the rope on his skin...

Something moved, but it wasn't only his arm. Connor froze, thinking that maybe it was just his imagination. But then he tried to push again and there it was... a creak and the wooden arm of the chair moved along with his arm. It seemed like the house wasn't the only thing decrepit. The chair wasn't as sturdy as it looked.

Connor felt the spark of hope ignite and even though he knew there was too little time, he had to try and free himself. The logical part of his brain was screaming at him to stop and think this through. He knew the kid would be back in a minute and Tommy also wasn't far. But Connor was past using logic. All he saw was the cold hate in Tommy's face and the bottle with the drug. All he could hear were the words 'overdose' and 'if he's lucky, he'll find you dying'. He didn't want to wait around for a better chance. He needed to escape right now.

The sudden hit of hope and fear sent a rush of adrenaline through his system and the pain became irrelevant. Connor kept moving and twisting his arm until he felt the wood give and crack. Suddenly the arm was free. He could barely feel his fingers, but he could curl them up and move them around. So he did.

Connor wasn't even sure how he managed. Everything seemed to be in some kind of haze, almost a dream. He didn't know where he got the strength but he pushed off of the floor and smashed the chair against the wall. It fell apart, only few pieces were stuck to him, or rather tied to him with a rope. Connor shook them off as best he could but knew he didn't really have the time. Eric at least must've heard a noise, because he called out for his brother. Connor stumbled towards the door then without a pause he continued into the hall. It was dark outside and the house wasn't lighted except for the room he was held in and what looked to be a bathroom. Connor didn't stop to explore it. His head was swimming and he had to squint, his eyes not yet adjusted to the darkness. His hearing was shot to hell. All he could really hear was his own panicked breathing and his heartbeat. Maybe that's why he didn't notice Eric until he collided into him.

There was a sound of the glass crashing to the floor and Connor felt cold liquid splashing his pant leg. Eric let out a surprised yelp and the two ended up facing each other, frozen. It was Connor who reacted first. He pushed at the boy, sending him sprawling on the floor and pushed past. He ran blindly through the hall and he almost stumbled head down the stairs but his right hand clutched at the banister at the last second and Connor could stop his unplanned descent.

He didn't know where he was going. At what floor was he? Were there more exits or just one? And most of all, where was Tommy and what was Eric doing?

The answer to one of his questions sounded in the next moment.

"Stop! I have a gun!" Eric shouted and Connor hesitated. He could do as he was told and pay the price for this attempt, or he could risk being shot at. He didn't know Eric, but he was pretty sure the kid didn't want to kill him. But he also knew the kid was scared and there was another man somewhere nearby who wouldn't hesitate to pull the trigger.

Connor wasn't about to wait around and see which one of them was a better shot. He cast a look towards where he heard Eric's voice coming from. He could see the boy's frame lighted by the lonely light bulb in the room Connor just escaped. The gun in his hand was unmistakable. Connor looked down into the impenetrable darkness below and made his decision.

He threw himself forward, practically flying down the stairs, the banister the only thing telling him that he reached the end. Just as his foot landed on something that might've been an old carpet, the shot rang out.

 


	6. Chapter 6

The hospital was busy as usual and Cornelius gritted his teeth as he pushed through a small family gathering blocking the way in. He paused for a moment, taking in the rush and tried to remember where exactly was the doctor's lounge. Of course he could just ask a nurse at the desk, but he had rather not draw attention to his presence at such an unusual time.

Cornelius pushed through one of the doors and found himself in the corridor leading to the emergency department. He barely made it a few feet when he was stopped by a security guard asking what he was doing there. Cornelius wanted to snap at the man to leave him alone, he wanted to grab the man's collar and push him against the wall, demanding to know where the hell was he when his son was being kidnapped from the parking lot of this hospital. But Cornelius knew that would get him nowhere fast and only cause a scene. So he showed the guard a tight smile, pushing his hand curled into a fist inside his jacket pocket.

"I'm visiting Dr. Ava Bekker. She's waiting for me in the doctor's lounge."

The guard frowned, if anything, looking more suspicious.

"May I ask who you are, sir?"

' _None of your damn business,'_ Cornelius wanted to snap, but didn't.

"Cornelius Rhodes... one of this hospital's main donors. So if you would be so kind and tell Dr. Bekker I'm here?"

"Oh, of-of course, sir. My apologies." The guard stuttered, his whole demeanor changing the second he heard the name. He scrambled to get Ava, asking Cornelius to stay where he was. He managed a quick apology too, although Cornelius wasn't sure for what. He was after all doing his job, at least inside the hospital. Cornelius will have to have a word with the board about the security in the parking lot however. He knew Chicago was a violent town, but this hospital was through more than its fair share of different attacks. Cornelius was quite fed up with it.

While the guard ran off to find Ava, Cornelius leaned against the wall, one hand rubbing at the bridge of his nose to fight the headache. He wondered if it was smart to even come here. Maybe he should have ignored the detective and just tried to fix this whole situation himself. The amount of money wasn't undoable, hell, he was prepared to dish almost twice the sum within the next few days investing in some properties on the west coast. The money wasn't an issue... especially not now, because Cornelius was sure he could get it back within few days. Once Connor was safely back home, well. Let's just say Cornelius had some friends in places that could come handy if one wanted a bit of payback. Yet those same people were too dangerous to ask to bring Connor back themselves. They were just too tough of a crowd and Connor could very easily become a victim of friendly fire. Nope, Cornelius had either needed to do this alone or heaven forbids, with the help of the police.

"Cornelius?" It was Ava, quickly walking towards him. She was in her civil clothes and her eyes were a bit red, face paler than usual, but otherwise she looked immaculate as always. Cornelius still envied his son this one. She put a hand on his arm in silent support. Cornelius was just glad she didn't burst out in tears. That was one thing he had trouble dealing with.

"Ava," he nodded and let her point him towards a door. It wasn't the lounge, but a small waiting room. Cornelius imagined this was the place the doctors came out to tell the family the bad news. At this moment it was empty, except for a young man pacing the room, cell phone in hand and a frown on his face. As they entered, the man looked up and stopped his pacing. It was only when he stepped towards Cornelius, offering a hand to shake, when Cornelius noted the gun under the jacket and a badge on the belt.

"Mr. Rhodes? I'm detective Jay Halstead. Nice to meet you."

Cornelius shook the hand and nodded, although he couldn't hide the discomfort upon being in the room with the detective.

"No offence, detective, but I'd rather we haven't met at all."

The corner of Jay's mouth quirked up in a smile.

"No offence taken, sir. I'd also rather be investigating some cold case than looking for Connor."

"Maybe you shouldn't then," Cornelius said a bit annoyed.

"Sir?" Jay looked confused, his eyes going cold. Cornelius could just imagine what he was thinking about him. Maybe that he was a cold hearted bastard who wanted to leave his son to die?

"I was told not to involve any police," Cornelius admitted a bit unwillingly. "Look, the money isn't a problem, detective. I can get it together in time. But I'm not sure involving the police department is the smartest move."

Jay nodded, his posture easing a bit. He shared a look with Ava and Cornelius realized those two knew each other well. That they might've had this conversation already before his arrival.

"So what is your plan? Just to give the money when they call?" Jay asked and there was a mocking tone that Cornelius didn't appreciate. Ava however must've been of the same mind, because she scowled at the detective.

"Perhaps. Once Connor is back, you can talk to him and try to find the culprits. I just don't want some rookie cop to accidentally shoot my son because he got trigger happy."

"I assure you, there would be no rookie cops involved in this, Mr. Rhodes. Seeing as Connor had saved one or two of my colleagues and a few other important people," here Jay looked at Ava and Cornelius was sure there was something hidden, a shared story he would not be privy to. "We are taking this very seriously, sir."

Cornelius gave a hesitant nod.

"I might even believe you on that. But... why would I go against the kidnapper's wishes? Like I said, the money is not a problem."

"The money perhaps not, but there are things you can't predict. What if something happened while he was kidnapped? What if Connor saw the kidnappers face? Or what if you give the money and they vanish, without a word on your son? Involving the cops after the money exchange would be too late."

Cornelius shook his head. He thought about all of these possibilities. He still had time to contact one of his partners specializing in security or just go with the situation.

"I don't feel comfortable involving you," he said and was ready to storm out, but Ava grabbed his arm.

"Cornelius, please. Just hear him out."

"We don't have time for this, Ava. _Connor_ doesn't have the time," Cornelius hissed.

"Exactly! Stop being a stubborn idiot. You're his father, you need to protect him. Jay is the best way to do it!" Ava spoke fiercely but Cornelius could see the worry in her eyes. He saw the same worry in the car mirror just a while ago.

"Look, Mr. Rhodes. I know this is scary and the Chicago PD might not have the best name in your circles. But we will investigate this as kidnapping whether you cooperate or not. We have enough proof that something happened to Connor at the parking lot."

Cornelius cringed, not even wanting to imagine what kind of proof that was or what really happened to his son. But he wasn't moving out of the room and Jay took it as a good signal, so he continued.

"We might have some video of the car he was taken in. You told me on the phone that you got some messages from them. We can use the lab to try and figure out who they are. We can trace the number. But if you leave now and do this on your own, we won't get all the information in time."

"Cornelius, please. Connor trusts Jay with his life. We both do. Do this for your son." Ava pleaded and Cornelius felt either like crying or laughing at this whole situation. Instead he just grimaced and sighed.

"You are too good at pleading your case, Dr. Bekker," he muttered, thinking about how she also convinced him about the hybrid OR. He was just hoping he wasn't making a mistake in both those cases.

"The text was sent from an unknown number. When I tried calling back, it was turned off. But I sent a message and that went through a bit later. I've also... received a photo attachment."

Cornelius took out his cell phone and clicked on the relevant messages, then showed Jay the photo. Ava moved so that she could also have a look. Cornelius watched as one hand flew up to her mouth and her eyes became a bit watery. It took her a moment, but then she swallowed and straightened her back, her face resolute.

"We must find him."

Jay was studying the picture, zooming in as much as possible.

"We will," he agreed and rubbed at her shoulder in support, but it was obvious he was already distracted. "Damn, I can't see any details. There's a boarded up window behind him. I'll send it to the tech guys, maybe they can pull something out of it."

Cornelius sighed, knowing there was no stepping back. Now all he could do was cooperate with the police and pray that they wouldn't mess up.

"Okay. I sent the picture and the messages. I'll call in the team and inform them about the whole situation. We will try to trace the number. Based on the text, we have about three hours left until the next contact."

"Yes. And I need those three hours to get the money ready," Cornelius noted gruffly then reached for his phone. "I'll need that to do it."

Jay didn't look happy about it, but returned the phone to Cornelius.

"It would be best if you returned home, Mr. Rhodes. We will need some safe place to set everything up."

Cornelius nodded, relieved he wouldn't have to do this at the police station. Not that he would agree to go there, not when he could be watched. The thought made his skin crawl.

"We shouldn't be seen together," he said quickly. "And no cop cars at my house either. What if they are watching... I can't endanger Connor that way."

Jay was already shaking his head.

"Don't worry about it. I came in my civil car. Seeing as my brother works here it's not unusual I stop by. And you can return home in your car. I'm assuming you have a rather big house in a guarded community?"

"It's more like a mansion," Ava piped in, shrugging off Jay's curious look. "If you come through the back gate in some service car pretending to be cleaners or food delivery, it should be okay."

"Good. Will you be joining Mr. Rhodes at the house? If not, there should at least be some guard with you at your place."

"That won't be necessary. She's coming with me," Cornelius decided and Ava didn't protest. She wouldn't have agreed to staying home anyway. She needed to know what was going on and wasn't about to be left aside.

"Okay, that's settled then. Why don't you head out? I'll call the boss and we will arrive at your house shortly, Mr. Rhodes. If you see anything suspicious, please call me right away."

Jay handed Cornelius a card with his phone number, although Cornelius already had it saved from their call. Jay nodded his farewell and turned away, phone already in hand, dialing his team. Cornelius stood there frozen with the card in hand. For a moment there was a feeling of utter despair rushing through his body, as if he had just made the biggest mistake of his life.

The warm and slightly shaking hand on his arm brought him back to the present and he forced a confident smile on his face and held out his arm, like a gentleman would.

"Let's go, then. We have some work to do."

* * *

The sound of the gun firing was startling. The sensation of the wood splinters brushing against his neck when the bullet embedded itself in the wall only few inches from Connor's face made him seriously reconsider his choice.

'Shit!' Connor thought even as he jumped away from the wall, afraid of a second shot causing even more damage.

"Stop! Please, I don't want to kill you!" Eric shouted and there was desperation in his voice, but Connor couldn't afford to trust it. His body throbbed, the arm protesting loudly at any movement. Connor didn't know where to go. He didn't even know where he _was_. His eyes were trying to adjust to the darkness, but all he could see were shadows of walls and some furniture. He stumbled across a table or a chair. Reaching out with his good arm to stop his fall he couldn't stop the cry of pain as the bones in his broken arm moved. For a second everything went white, as if someone turned on the light, then just as suddenly flipped it off.

Connor swallowed the nausea, the urge to just sit down and hide somewhere getting stronger with the pain. But the fear gripping his insides was stronger. He could hear steps as Eric made his way down the stairs, while Connor was fumbling his way in a strange house. He felt the wooden walls, at one point he also reached a window, but it was boarded up and all he could see through the small space between the boards was the flickering lights far away.

With a curse on his lips, Connor's knee bumped into another obstacle and as his foot stepped forward, Connor felt air beneath. Eyes going wide Connor managed to turn his body just in time to grab hold of another banister before he slid down a few steps. He was on a staircase leading down, which meant the house he was in had at least two floors.

Behind him there were steps and fast breathing, a curse as Eric also stumbled over something.

"Come on, come back please! Tommy will kill both of us!" Eric tried to plead and Connor wondered if he was right. Would Tommy hurt his kid brother? Probably not, but he was pretty sure if given the chance, Tommy would happily finish him off. Connor didn't make a sound, he just listened. Eric sounded to be getting closer, but he had yet to shoot again.

The stairs would probably creak and give away his position, but Connor didn't see a different road. He just had to be faster than Eric so that he wouldn't be caught once again in such a closed off space. The bit of light Connor could see through the hall at the end of the stairs gave him hope that the exit was nearby. Sending up a quick prayer, Connor blindly made his way down the stairs.

He was right. Every step he made caused a loud creaking sound, the wood obviously in bad condition, maybe even rotting. Connor let out a breath as he reached the bottom and indeed saw a slightly open door a mere ten yards from him. Only few more steps and he could be free...

His relief was short lived however. He barely took a step when the slightly open door was kicked open. In its place stood a dark figure, framed by the late night sky.

"Eric?" the figure shouted and Connor knew he had just ran out of time. He couldn't go back, because Eric was already standing on the stairs above him.

"Tommy, look out!" the boy warned and another shot sounded, though this one went wide. Connor suspected Eric didn't want to risk hitting his brother but also didn't want to appear as if he was letting him go. Connor couldn't stop to think about it however. He cursed and threw himself to the side, through another door leading who knew where. He could hear the commotion behind him, but also hesitation. Connor didn't understand why his two pursuers weren't rushing through the door and shooting. Something cracked under his foot and Connor froze. It felt like crunching plastic and glass. Come to think of it, the room he entered smelled foul. The smell of rot and garbage hit his nose all at once and Connor gagged. It seemed like he stumbled into a room that was used as some junkies hideout. Every step he took caused the floorboards to creak, his feet encountering more and more garbage. Connor was almost glad for the lack of light. At least he could see another window in front of him. Maybe if he put some force into it, he could manage to pry off a board. As long as Tommy and Eric didn't dare to brave the pigsty he was currently trapped in.

His hopes were smashed rather quickly though. The door behind his back opened and someone stepped in, holding a cell phone with the flashlight function, sweeping it around the room. Connor spotted the glint of a gun.

His mind flashed back to the image of Tommy's cold eyes and the syringe hiding in his pocket. Connor was essentially trapped, there was nowhere to go but forward. It wasn't clear thinking, it was pure instinct. Fight or flight... Connor chose to fight.

First thing he hit was the cell phone. It went flying even as Connor's fist connected with flesh and bone. His whole body screamed as he was prepared to feel the burn of a bullet when he heard the deafening shot. Something hot brushed his shoulder, but it felt like barely a nick as the gun went wide.

There was a scuffle as Connor tried to land another punch, to incapacitate his opponent as quickly as possible. He didn't know what he was hitting, just that he heard a satisfying yelp of pain. He felt a momentary triumph, but it didn't last. Tommy gave an angry shout and repaid the punch with his own. Connor stumbled back a bit, his good arm catching on a shirt. The weight of the other man was the only thing that kept him from falling to the floor. Tommy seemed to realize that. He reached for the hand curled around his shirt and grabbed the arm, digging fingernails into skin.

Connor yelped and let go, stumbling several feet backwards. Tommy wavered at the sudden change of balance, but didn't seem to be deterred.

"You're going down, you fucker!" he hissed and with a roar charged forward.

Connor couldn't do anything. He felt Tommy's head smashing into his chest, the force of it sending them both falling to the ground with a powerful crash.

Connor thought someone sucked the air out of the room. He couldn't breathe, couldn't think. All he felt was enormous pressure on top of him, screaming pain enveloping his body, then a crack. He would never forget the sound of the wooden floor splintering.

Suddenly there was nothing, no weight, no air... no sense of up or down. Then the air and garbage swished around his head and the gravity reclaimed him. Something collided with his back or maybe Connor collided with something. It didn't matter. In the next second there was a body lying on top of him and rubble falling. So much rubble. It felt as if the sky opened and was raining down rocks on top of Connor, trying to bury him deep underground. By the time the rubble stopped falling and the dust settled, Connor was swallowed by the welcome embrace of the unconsciousness. Somewhere above him, Eric was kneeling on the floor and calling out his brother's name. But there was no answer.

 


	7. Chapter 7

The gurgling sound was getting on his nerves. Whoever was messing around should stop, because Connor wasn't in the mood. He felt tired, too tired to even try and open his eyes. His limbs were lead and there was a dull throbbing coursing through his whole body. It felt strange... like he was still on the verge of sleep and everything was muted. Everything except that damn sound. It sounded a bit familiar, but Connor's brain couldn't identify it. Sounded like air leaking through water...

Then came the pained whine and a wheeze and Connor realized the sound was coming from a person. An injured person, if all his years of experience taught him anything. But that wasn't making any sense. It was dark and Connor had just woken up... or he was about to fall asleep. There shouldn't be anyone injured nearby.

'Maybe I fell asleep in the hospital?' Connor mused, frowning. He pulled in a testing breath and the dull throbbing became much stronger. Something was wrong. The air didn't smell of disinfectant but of rot and blood. Lots of blood, so much that Connor could almost taste it on his lips.

The sleepiness was pushed away by the sudden rush of adrenaline. Connor's mind finally started working, the haze vanishing and bringing flashes of memories. Memories of Joshua attacked him, followed rapidly by the image of Tommy's hate filled eyes and Eric holding a gun. Tommy charging at him, then the feeling of weightlessness, followed by pain and darkness.

Connor's eyes popped open but there was still only darkness, nothing else. Darkness and lots of dust. Connor took a deeper breath and his lungs rebelled. The coughing fit was swift but brutal. It felt like something was tearing at his insides. He couldn't move his body, couldn't even curl up his legs into a fetal position to try and ride out the pain.

Connor let out a pained groan, forcing his breathing to slow down, willing the coughing to subside. Anything to stop the searing pain coming from his torso. For a moment all he could hear were his own whimpers and curses. Connor suddenly wished that the haze stayed, just so he wouldn't feel this bad.

Running his tongue over his cracked lips, feeling parched, Connor was startled to realize there was blood on his lips. He turned his head as much as he could and spit out, but couldn't get rid of the taste. He could feel it on his face, covering his skin. He was able to move at least one of his arms, thankfully the one that wasn't broken. Shaking fingers run over his face, searching for a wound that would explain so much blood. Because there was a lot of it. It felt like his whole face was covered in blood. But except for some scrapes he couldn't really find anything that serious. Not on his face at least.

He was just about to try and move again, maybe figure out what was lying on top of him and if there was any way out. He knew he needed to get out, before Tommy or Eric found him and finished the job.

Just then the gurgling and wheezing resumed... or maybe it was never gone, just fell into the background as Connor's brain tried to clear up the situation. It was coming from the right and even though Connor couldn't see a thing, he could feel the presence of another person.

Connor froze. His first instinct was to run or hide, the shallow wound on his arm a clear reminder of being shot at. But he was trapped and even just the tensing of his muscles caused the pain to pulse sharply. There was a weight on his chest and when he reached towards it, he felt the wooden surface of what could have been a support beam or some floorboards. As he moved his hand some rubble got loose and rolled down, bringing more dust. Connor instinctively held his breath and covered his face as much as he could, unwilling to repeat the coughing fit. The person next to him wasn't so swift.

There was a gasp, then a wet sounding cough that ended in a pitiful whine. Connor felt the hair on his arms raise. He didn't have to see to know that sound meant nothing good. And it didn't matter that the source was most probably the guy who was trying to kill him. Now that Connor knew what to focus on, he could identify the problem, at least partially. Tommy must've injured his throat or suffered a serious lung injury. In any case, he was having trouble breathing and he was bleeding... a lot.

Connor carefully reached out with his good arm, as much as the rubble and his own body allowed. He didn't even have to reach that far. Tommy was lying only maybe two feet away. At least Connor hoped it was Tommy and not Eric. He didn't want to have the boy's life on his conscience.

Connor's fingers touched cold skin and more of that wetness. He could feel the body underneath twitching and taking in big gulps of breath, or at least attempting to. Connor grimaced and continued feeling his way up towards the neck, hoping at least to find the pulse. Instead his fingers encountered the jagged wound that was gushing blood in time with Tommy's heartbeat. Connor instinctively clamped down on the wound, trying to stop the bleeding, even though he knew it was useless. He wasn't sure Tommy could be saved even if they magically transported him right into the hybrid OR.

Connor closed his eyes, cursing everything. From his childhood choices to his father and lawyer... everything that led to this moment. He was buried in some decrepit building under rubble, injured and with a dying man by his side. And no way to call for help.

He was so lost in his own mind and recriminations that he almost didn't hear the voice. When he first noticed, he thought it was Tommy trying to speak. Why he would be speaking his own name though didn't make much sense. Connor swallowed and forced himself to listen. He couldn't fall apart, not right now. Not yet. And that's when he heard it.

"Tommy!"

It was Eric. He didn't sound that far away and Connor wondered why he didn't hear him before. Was he slowly losing it too? He still didn't know the extent of his own injuries, but he was keeping his good arm firmly on Tommy's wound to at least give him a fighting chance. Or maybe just to keep away death for a bit longer. Connor didn't fancy sharing this little tomb with a dead body.

"Tommy! Are you okay?" Eric's voice was even clearer and Connor tried to call out, but his first attempt ended in a pitiful croak that could hardly be heard. Clearing his throat, Connor made another attempt, hoping fervently that the kid had some sense and had already called help.

"Here!" Connor managed to shout, grimacing when the sound felt too loud to his ears.

"Tommy?"

"N-no, it's me, Connor," he said, then quickly added: "Tommy's here too!" before Eric would decide to run.

There was a moment of silence which felt like eternity to Connor, but then Eric's voice was back.

"Is Tommy okay?"

Connor cringed. What was he supposed to say? If he admitted that Tommy was as good as dead, Eric would surely balk. But did he have the guts to lie to the kid?

"He's alive," Connor finally shouted back. After all, he could still feel the blood pulsing under his fingers, even though the stream was getting lighter and the skin grew colder. "But he needs help."

"Can't you help him? You're a doctor!"

Connor didn't know if he should roll his eyes or laugh from despair. In the end, he just sighed.

"I'm trapped, I can barely reach him. Please... if you want your brother to live... call help!"

"I-I can't! Tommy, can you hear me? Please answer!"

"Eric, we need help. Just call 911 and leave if you must. I won't tell them about you, but Tommy needs help."

"I want to talk to him first! I need to know he's alive!"

Connor could tell the kid was panicking but he also knew there was no way Tommy could say anything. He was barely breathing now, he definitely wasn't conscious.

"He can't, Eric. His... there's a big cut on his throat. He's bleeding heavily," Connor relayed, leaving out the fact that there could have been many other injuries he just didn't know about.

"Please... just one word! Tommy? Please, tell me what to do!" Eric's breath hitched but it was Connor who felt like crying. If he didn't convince the kid, he was as good as dead. While he wasn't bleeding out as fast as Tommy, he knew that something was wrong with him. Everything felt just a bit surreal. His heart was beating faster than it probably should and the more he tried to move, the more his right side hurt.

"Eric, please. If... if you don't call help right now, he will die. Just... dial 911." Connor begged and he could hear a sob somewhere above himself.

"Can... can you keep him alive? I swear we will let you go. Just keep him alive."

Connor closed his eyes in despair.

"He will die, Eric!"

There was a moment of silence, then a barely heard "I'm sorry."

Connor felt his stomach lurch.

"Eric?" No response. Not a sound. "Eric!" Connor shouted until he had to stop, chest heaving. There was a strange sound from his right. The tendons in Tommy's neck became rigid as his whole body tensed in a spasm... then everything went slack. There was a whoosh of a breath and Connor's fingers grasped, blindly searching for a pulse. Nothing.

Tommy was dead. Eric was gone. And Connor was trapped who knew where, hurt and alone with no idea if help was coming or not. The realization of that caused an overwhelming fear to grip Connor's whole body. His breath hitched and even though he couldn't see, everything around him was spinning. He felt weightless, as if he was once again falling. Only this time he wasn't sure there will be anything to land on.

* * *

The ice clinked in his glass, the amber colored whisky sloshing slightly out of it, as Cornelius Rhodes paced in the living room of his house, or rather mansion. Ava sat on the leather couch that was possibly larger and definitely more expensive than her bedroom. Her glass with the soda was sitting on the table, getting room temperature as she hadn't touched it yet. Jay and another cop Ava didn't know were leaned over a laptop by the other end of the couch, talking quietly, checking things.

All Ava noted was the ticking of the clock on the wall. It was a nice, old clock, but when it beat midnight and the small bird popped out chirping its song, Ava felt like taking a hammer to it. Jay and the cop startled a bit, their eyes going right for the phone laying idly on the table. Cornelius paused his steps, then glared at the clock as if it had personally offended him.

For a minute everyone was still, all eyes watching the cell phone, waiting for the display to light up. The seconds ticked by, but nothing happened. When the minute hand of the old clock moved, Cornelius had enough. He grabbed the phone off the table and checked the display, making sure it had reception, that the batteries were full.

"Why the hell aren't they calling? The message was clear!" he barked, this time pointing the glare at Jay and the cop.

"Their watch might be running late?" Jay guessed, then added: "It might be their game. Sometimes, they want to let you sweat it out. Just try to stay calm, Mr. Rhodes."

But Cornelius was having none of it. He wasn't happy right from the start about involving the police and was only gruffly accepting their help. Ava swallowed, reaching for that glass of soda, trying to drive away the parched feeling in her mouth. She knew if something went wrong because the police was involved, Cornelius would never forgive her for that. Hell, she wouldn't forgive herself, but that was beyond the point.

"So far we didn't do anything to cause them to bail," Jay said, trying to calm down the situation, even though it was obvious he was tense as well. He was right though, Ava thought. Jay and the cop arrived to the mansion under the rouse of the night, in a delivery van that left a moment later. The mansion was gated off so no one could really see who got out of the van. There were no flashing lights, nothing to give away their presence. While they were setting up the surveillance inside the house, Jay's team was working from the outside. There was a car watching the perimeter, a cop in civil clothes was at the hospital pretending to be a new security hire. Someone was surveying the video feed from the cameras around and nearby the hospital, while the lab was already trying to get some evidence from the discarded syringe. So far the cameras seemed to prove the most useful, as they provided the police with the image of the van Connor was most probably taken in. An APB was issued and now they were waiting, while Jay went over and over with Cornelius and Ava about Connor's possible enemies.

Ava wasn't sure what was irking Cornelius more. The fact he had to answer most questions with an 'I don't know!' or the fact there was a pretty big chunk of time when Connor left the states and _no one_ knew what was going on with him. Even Ava wasn't privy to those details, though it might've been just because Connor had no reason to talk about his past. He shared some stories from his travels and job in Saudi Arabia, or studies in Mexico, but they didn't yet get to the point of sharing the scars. So not even Ava could help when Jay asked about who would want to hurt Connor.

"I shouldn't have let you come," Cornelius grumbled, looking at his watch once again. It was ten minutes past the time the kidnappers were supposed to call. He had all the money needed, he was ready to make the drop. All he needed was the place and to know that his son was still alive. All he wanted was to see Connor with his own two eyes, to know what the hell was going on.

"What if something went wrong?" Ava spoke out loud what was on all their minds. Cornelius cringed and Jay grimaced.

"We can't do anything but wait," the cop behind the computer tried to calm them down.

"I can't just sit on my ass waiting for _someone_ to bring back my son!" Cornelius barked, slamming the now empty glass on the table so hard it rattled.

"You don't really have a choice, Mr. Rhodes," Jay said matter of factly, receiving a killing glare for his trouble. He just shrugged it off.

"At this point all we can do is wait. There are people out there looking for Connor, but we need to be ready for when the call will come."

"What if it doesn't?" This time it was Ava who asked the question and the room went silent.

"We will cross that bridge when we come to it," Jay said quietly. "Connor's my friend too. I want to find him just as much as you. Trust me, we are doing everything we can. Now it's their turn."

The room fell into silence once again as Cornelius resumed his pacing and Ava leaned forward, resting her head on her palms. She was tired from work and she felt sick to her stomach with worry. Everything seemed to be so unreal, the past few hours just a jumble of scenes from some stupid detective flick. All she wanted was to know that Connor was alright, to curl up next to him in a bed and get some sleep. Not this torture of a waiting game. Anything would be better than waiting.

When the phone rang, they all jumped. Ava's heart skipped a beat as she looked at the phone on the table, expecting it to be lit up. Cornelius was already reaching for it, but the display was dark. The phone was ringing, but it wasn't the one on the table.

Jay reached into his pocket and gave them all an apologetic look before picking up the call. Cornelius swore and Ava felt like weeping, unsure if she was relieved about not hearing bad news or going crazy from the lack of information. She was so deep in her own thoughts that she didn't note the change in Jay's tone until Cornelius froze. Her eyes first went to him, then she followed his gaze that was locked on Jay, standing near the door with a frown on his face.

"Where?" his tone was crisp and urgent and the pretended ease was gone from his features. Ava's stomach clenched and she stood, now listening to every word, trying to hear the person on the other side.

"Do you have a name? Did they get anyone out?"

Ava frowned, the words not making any sense to her. Maybe it was a call about a different case? But no. Jay glanced their way and grimaced. This was about Connor.

Cornelius and Ava were both frozen in place, waiting until Jay ended the call and looked at them.

"Well?" Cornelius uttered, his voice cracking.

"There was a 911 call about a collapsed floor and people trapped inside the building."

"What does that have to do with my son?" Cornelius snapped.

"A cop was dispatched to secure the location, as it is an area well known for squatters and addicts. While doing a sweep, he found the van we put an APB out on. There are two people stuck in a collapsed building nearby. The firefighters are working on getting them out as we speak."

Ava blanched. A collapsed building? She knew what kind of damage that could cause.

"Is... are those people alive?"

"Is it Connor?" Both Ava and Cornelius spoke at the same time, but Jay didn't have the answer they sought.

"There's... one deceased. I didn't get an ID on the other person, I'm sorry."

Ava swallowed, the spacious room and mansion suddenly feeling too small and stifling. She needed air. Just the thought of Connor possibly being trapped under rubble made her queasy. She shook her head and walked out of the room, Jay trailing behind her.

"Ava, where are you going?"

"I need some air," she muttered even as she opened the front door. She didn't get much time to enjoy it however as Cornelius rushed out next to her.

"Mr. Rhodes!" Jay called out, frustrated. "Where-"

"I'm done waiting. I want to see my son!"

"We don't know yet if he's there!"

"Well then get me there and I'll tell you!"

Ava thought it was a ridiculous argument, but she shared the sentiment. Jay himself seemed itching to go, but he shook his head.

"Let's wait just a couple of minutes. We should know if it's him shortly and then I will personally take you to the hospital. But I can't take you to the scene."

Cornelius glared at Jay and Ava would have laughed at the battle of wills, but just then Jay's phone rang again and they finally had their answer.

 


	8. Chapter 8

Connor wasn't sure how much time had passed since Eric left. He seemed to drift in and out of consciousness. Or maybe it was just the darkness surrounding him, his own breath echoing in the strange enclosure that felt like a grave. Connor managed to pull his arm close to his chest and as far away from Tommy's dead body as possible. He was used to death, he was a doctor after all. He had seen a fair share of it. But there was something profoundly scary and different about being buried under rubble with another person who wasn't breathing. Connor wasn't superstitious, he stopped believing in ghosts shortly after his mother committed suicide. If anyone would have had a reason to stick around, it was her, but Connor never saw even a sign of a ghost. No, the goose bumps covering his skin were just a reaction to fear. About being truly left there, lost and forgotten. How long would it take for him to succumb to his injuries? Would they even find his body? Maybe in few days some junkie would come crawling through the rubble to see if there was anything salvageable or on the contrary, someone will throw garbage in, burying him and Tommy so deep they won't be found in decades.

Those were the dark thoughts going through Connor's mind in the moments he was conscious. At one point Connor was sure he heard a noise so he started screaming, shouting for help. But it was nothing. Maybe just the house settling, more rubble falling down somewhere.

Connor let out an angry shout, grimacing at the pain it caused. He had to get out. Maybe he could try and crawl out from under the wooden beam that was pinning him to the ground. Connor took as deep a breath as his bruised ribs and the pressure on his chest allowed. He cursed his useless left arm even as he tried to find the best position to push with the right one. Maybe if he could use his legs as well...

Connor was aware that he probably shouldn't be moving around. There was the risk of spine injury and moving could cause irreparable damage. But he was stubborn and panicking. He tried to do a self-diagnosis a little bit earlier, but his mind was fuzzy. So he concluded there was a concussion, a broken arm and many, many painful bruises. His back hurt, but not in the way that would hint a spine damage. His legs... well, he felt them. There were some tender spots but he was pretty sure he managed to move his toes. The only thing that really made him pause before trying to free himself was the pain shooting through his abdomen. He couldn't locate the source of the pain as the beam was resting right over it. Hell, he didn't even know if it was an open wound or internal bleeding. The fact he felt weak and dizzy gave him an idea that he was probably losing some blood, but that just made his decision all that stronger. He couldn't wait for _someone_ to stumble over this place. Eric was gone and there was no saying if he called for help or not. And Tommy... well, Tommy was lying only a few feet away from him and Connor really hoped the occasional puffs of putrid air touching his cheek were just his overactive imagination and nothing else.

Determined to stop being just a helpless victim, Connor took a breath, closed his eyes to spare them from dust and prepared for the pain. Then he pushed against the beam.

The scream that tore from his throat would have startled him, but Connor wasn't aware. He just felt a searing pain across his abdomen as the beam moved a bit, then nothing at all.

Until the voices came.

It felt like an eternity away, but Connor could hear voices. Men shouting, calling out. He wanted to respond but he was having trouble opening his mouth. Everything felt unreal and Connor blinked, thinking it was just another dream or his imagination playing up. He didn't have the energy to try and call attention to himself if that was the case. The voices seemed to leave and Connor moaned in despair, slowly giving up hope. But then there was noise. Not voices, just a mechanical thumping that grew louder and louder, until there was a crash and Connor felt a rush of air.

„We're in!" Someone shouted and Connor blinked as for the first time since falling he saw a flicker of light. It was a strong light and it would have blinded him momentarily after being in the dark for who knew how long, but the debris was in the way. Connor first blinked, then squinted, trying to see through the debris. All he caught were shadows and a momentary glimpse of Tommy's face. His eyes were wide open and staring deadly right at Connor. He couldn't stop the startled gasp.

"Hello? Firefighters. Is anyone here? Please call out! We came to help!" One of the man called and Connor could see the sweep of the flashlight. He felt like weeping from relief.

"Here! Please, help!" he called out with choked voice and he could hear that everyone stopped moving.

"We are here, it's alright. Where are you?"

Connor swallowed .

"Trapped underneath," he replied and heard a chuckle.

"Yeah, I can see that," the man said good-naturedly, then spoke to someone else. "We found one! Get Charlie here. I think we will need to move this by hand."

"What's your name buddy?" the man asked and Connor wondered whether he knew the guy from Molly's or not. Whether he was even still in Chicago.

"Connor," he said and moved his hand a bit. He didn't want to move at all after what happened last time he tried, but his cheek was itching horribly. Yep, just as he thought, the previous attempt must've made something worse. He groaned at the pain the small movement of his hand caused.

"Okay, Connor. My name's Reth. We will get you out as soon as possible, okay? Just try to stay still. Are you hurt?"

Connor almost snorted but thought better.

"Yeah, I think so. How... how long till you get me out?"

"We'll try to be as fast as possible. Connor, we got a call about two people in a collapsed building. Is there anyone else with you?"

Connor chanced a look towards Tommy. The light penetrating between the debris was now shining partially on his neck and the gazing wound. Connor only saw dark wetness.

"He's dead," Connor said almost in a whisper, but luckily Reth seemed to hear him.

"Are you sure?"

"Y-yeah. Neck wound. Bled out," Connor recited automatically, trying to pry his eyes away, even though the light moved and now it was shining on the debris above Tommy's head instead.

"Okay, thanks Connor. Listen, we will start pulling off the debris, so it might get a bit dusty. But first I need to know your state. We don't want to pull anything down on you. Can you see my flashlight?"

The light returned and Connor had to squint as at one moment the light hit him in the face.

"Yeah," he said. Reth moved something out of the way. Connor had to turn his head a bit, letting out a groan.

"I can see you!" Reth called out excitedly, then pulled back from the newly made space. There was some hushed conversation with the other firefighters before Reth turned back to Connor.

"Connor? Still with me?"

"Yeah," Connor muttered, his elation about being found slowly fading and giving way to weariness. Maybe he could just take a nap and when he woke up, he would be back at Gaffney.

"Okay, buddy. Try and stay awake yeah?"

"Would rather sleep," Connor said.

"That's not a good idea, Connor. Why don't you tell me about your situation? You said you were trapped. I can see your face but not much else from this angle. Can you explain a bit?"

"There's a beam... over my torso. I think... I t-think it caused some... damage," Connor said and had to swallow down a sudden wave of nausea. Just thinking about his injuries made him hurt more.

"What damage?"

"I tried to move... before. Hurt... hurt like hell. I think possible... internal bleeding, but... I can't... can't figure it out," Connor was getting more and more irritated. He was a doctor damn it, he should be able to identify the problem. But somehow it was different when he was the one in pain and bleeding.

"Hey, calm down. It's our job to help you," Reth tried to sooth him, but Connor shook his head angrily.

"No! I should... I should know! I'm a damn doctor, but I can't... can't think straight." He felt the irritation and knew it was irrational, probably the effect of the head injury or the cold or _something._ But knowing and being able to control it were two different things. Connor cursed then gritted his teeth. He could feel the pain growing just a bit stronger.

"Relax, Connor. It's alright. Just focus on my voice and try to calm down your breathing." Reth made several exaggerated deep breaths and Connor only then realized his own breathing was too fast and shallow. He was hyperventilating and maybe that was the cause of the growing pain.

Connor followed Reth's advice. It wasn't easy and his breath sped back up every time the other firefighters removed some larger piece of debris. The more they worked, the more dust was in the air, the more Connor smelled the rotten wood and the garbage all around.

"That's it, nice and easy does it. Say doc, what are you doing out there? It's not the best neighborhood to be hanging out this late at night."

Connor snorted.

"I don't... don't even know where I am," he admitted and he could imagine the frown on Reth's face. "The dead guy... he kidnapped me. I was... I was trying to escape, when... when we fell," Connor tried to explain. For a moment everything stopped and there was dead silence.

"Say again?" Reth asked. "You were _kidnapped?_ "

Connor gave a sound of confirmation. There was a rustle of movement and the light was back, shining straight into his face. Connor grimaced but didn't try to turn away. He ran his tongue over parched lips.

"I'm Connor... Rhodes. Can... can you call my father please?"

"Rhodes? Hell, I know that name," Reth uttered though this time it wasn't aimed at Connor but someone else.

"Connor? Can you answer a question? It's important."

"Hm?"

"The guy who kidnapped you... was he alone?"

Reth's tone was strange and it took Connor a moment to identify it as apprehension.

"There... there was a kid too... teen. He's... it's his brother." Connor wasn't sure why he even hesitated. After all, Eric helped Tommy with his kidnapping. But there was something about the kid and the whole situation that made Connor feel guilty. He wanted to somehow protect the kid but at the same time knew it was foolish and dangerous.

"Yeah. He's the one who called us," Reth said. "Carl, go warn those cops outside. Just be careful not to be too obvious. And don't tell the kid about his brother, okay? Just that we are working on it."

"Sure thing," Carl replied but before he could leave, Connor called out.

"Wait!" He didn't know what was the situation outside. He didn't think Eric would be dangerous without Tommy's influence, but there was one thing that the firefighters and the cops needed to know, for their own safety. "He's... one of them had a gun," Connor admitted.

There was some worried muttering. Connor could hear the crack of a radio as Reth was calling in the situation and requesting a dispatch of another cop car. Connor couldn't muster up the energy to care anymore. All he wanted to do was sleep and be done with all of this. He closed his eyes and tried to ignore the annoying voice calling his name. He tuned everything out. His ears were ringing and there was too much noise to listen to one voice anyway.

Something changed. He felt a hand on his face and someone was pulling up his eyelids, blinding him with light. Connor groaned and tried to turn his face away but he couldn't. His head didn't move.

"Hey, hey, calm down. Connor, can you hear me? It's okay, we just put on a C-collar so you won't move." It was a female voice and Connor frowned, then slowly opened his eyes. He could still see small stars from the flashlight on the edge of his vision, but otherwise he was met by a friendly looking EMT.

The good thing was that he wasn't alone anymore. The firefighters seemingly created enough space that the EMT could crawl in, even squat down next to his head and check him out. The bad thing was that he still seemed to be trapped under the beam. Connor groaned.

"Yeah, I know you were probably expecting some hot nurse," the EMT joked even as her fingers were running gently over his scalp, checking for head injuries. "But you'll have to make do with me for the time being. At least until the guys will get this thing off you. I'm Charlie by the way."

"N'ce to meet you," Connor managed, his voice sounding even more raspy. He was thirsty, so damn thirsty but he was pretty sure Charlie wouldn't give him anything to drink. "How... how long?"

"How long were you out? Or how long till we get you out?" she asked with a gentle smile as she took his pulse.

"Both?"

"Not long... and that's for both questions. Okay boys, I think we should move this along. Connor has spent enough time lying around, I'm sure he's tired of it by now."

"Exhausted," Connor said and tried for a smile too, albeit he was sure it came out as a grimace. He knew that tone. Charlie was trying to appear calm and reassuring, but something was wrong and she wanted him out of there ASAP. If he had to go by his overall feeling, he was losing much more blood than he could afford. The fact that thought didn't stir even a bit of panic inside him meant he really wasn't doing all that well. At this point, Connor didn't really care. All he felt was drowsiness and cold. So much cold seeping into him even through his jacket.

"Connor? Stay awake please," Charlie spoke and it probably wasn't the first time she tried to rouse him as Connor felt a pinch on his earlobe. With a pained grunt, he opened the eyes he didn't know were closed.

"What?" he groused.

"We have a backboard ready to pull you onto as soon as the beam is moved. You don't need to do anything, we will do all the heavy lifting. It'll probably hurt, but I need you to stay as calm and relaxed as possible, okay?"

Connor blinked, trying to understand what she was telling him. He noted that there was another firefighter nearby... was that Carl or Reth? Connor didn't know. There was also some sort of rope wound around the beam, possibly to help with the lifting or stop it from sliding back down on Connor. He just... didn't care.

"Do what you... need to," he muttered then closed his eyes. He knew this would hurt. He'd tried before.

Connor ignored the commotion around him. He tried not to shrug out of the hands clutching his shoulders, preparing to pull once the weight was off. He thought he would be ready for the pain as Reth counted down to the action.

When the firefighter reached one, Connor unconsciously tensed. Several things happened at the same time. The pressure on his stomach eased and for a blessed moment Connor felt as if he could breath freely again. But that was only a thought before the pain slammed back in with vengeance. Connor wanted to cry out, but the pain seemed to rob him of the oxygen needed to do that. As he felt his body being pulled, it was all just too much. When darkness came, he welcomed it.

 


	9. Chapter 9

There was noise. So much noise and light. Connor squeezed his eyes shut tight and tried to turn his head away, to hide. But he couldn't really move. There was something hard and unforgiving around his neck, making him feel as if he was choking. But there was also a rush of oxygen smelling like plastic right over his face.

He was moving, that much he knew. He could feel the vibrations of the engine in his bones, every turn or change of speed awakening the fiery pain inside his body. Someone was talking over him, but Connor didn't have the energy or will to open his eyes anymore. The words were lost in the noise of the ambulance, the sirens wailing and making him wish he could move his hands and cover his ears. But he was strapped in, immobilized. Just the thought of being unable to move sent his heart racing. Or maybe it was racing all along, Connor didn't know. His chest felt strange, limbs heavy.

The ambulance finally arrived to the hospital, or so Connor judged by the sudden stop and more movement of the stretcher. More voices and lights joined the circus, but at least the ambulance siren went silent. Connor was thankful for that.

There were familiar people around, he was sure. At one point he heard a terrified but decisive nurse shout "Take him to Baghdad!"

He was at Gaffney, Connor realized with some relief. The next thought was how stupid it was to call the room Baghdad. What if there was an injured vet who served there? Wouldn't that just cause him a flashback?

Connor's mind slipped away, stuck on a thought of a more appropriate name for Baghdad. Maybe they should call it something more relaxing. Connor would have preferred not to be taken to Baghdad, thank you so much.

The choice wasn't in his hands however and Connor returned to reality as he was moved to the bed. His broken arm was jostled and he couldn't stop the cry of pain.

"Connor? Buddy, are you awake?" It was Will Halstead and the surprise of that caused Connor to open his eyes to a slit. Just how long was he gone?

"Will?" he asked through the slits, confused and unsettled.

Will seemed to be satisfied with him being conscious as he was already checking his pupils and touching spots that hurt just a bit too much.

"That's it. Just stay awake for a bit, Connor, okay? There are some folks on the way who really want to see you."

Connor blinked.

"Don't feel like... company," he muttered, earning a chuckle.

"I don't think they expect you to entertain them. Right now though I need you to answer a few questions, yeah?"

Connor started to nod, but realized he couldn't. He gritted his teeth, letting out a frustrated sigh. Will took that as a sign to continue and he quickly went over some basic questions with Connor, to check his mental status. Connor found it tedious and useless even though as a doctor he would have done the same.

"Can you tell me what happened?"

"When?" Connor asked gruffly. He found talking more and more difficult. Paying attention to the questions was tiring him out and he just wanted to sleep.

"Connor!" Will called his name and there was a hand on his face. Connor opened his eyes and saw the worried look of a friend. He forced himself to focus.

"Hm?"

"Did you suffer any injuries _before_ you fell down the floor?"

The answer should have been obvious, Connor thought. He was pretty sure the bruises on his face and the state of his arm could be timed several hours back. On the other hand, Will hardly had any information about what transpired, except for the EMT's recount.

"Uhm... broken arm... few hours back. Some bruises."

Will seemed to take it in with a grimace. It was obvious he wanted to know all the details, but there was really no time for that now.

"Anything else I should know about?" The question was tightly veiled and Connor frowned, trying to figure out what Will meant. Or whether there was something he needed to share. He was about to shake his head, when something occurred to him.

"D-drugs. They knocked me out... with some injection?"

Will grimaced.

"Any idea what it was?"

Connor almost snorted. How the hell should he know? He never really tried drugs after all. But maybe he could at least give Will a clue. The fact his own brain wasn't cooperating didn't mean Will won't figure it out.

"I lost some... time. But not much... side effects."

"Okay, that's good. We will need to run a blood panel to see if there are any residues but it sounds like ketamine. That would be the easiest to get on the street," Will mused and was already nodding towards the nurse to set it up.

"There's a kid in our custody... possibly the second kidnapper," a voice sounded from the door and Connor startled. He didn't realize someone else was there... or that they actually caught Eric. "He might have the info that you need."

"Thank you, officer-?" Will asked and Connor realized he wasn't the only one surprised by the presence.

"Hamlock. I was the one to call in the van from the APB. Detective Halstead asked me to stay with Dr. Rhodes ad make sure he is safe. At least until we figure out if there wasn't another person involved."

"See Connor? You have a personal bodyguard, courtesy of Chicago P.D."

'I'd rather have some painkillers and privacy,' Connor thought but didn't voice it. His throat felt parched and his back hurt. If only he could turn and lay on his side, maybe that would stop the pain.

Connor twitched and tried to move his arm, to at least cover his eyes from the overhead light. It was getting on his nerves. But his arm barely rose and he could feel the strap of the backboard across his chest holding him down. All of a sudden, he was back in the house, tied to the chair, blindfolded and gagged. Unable to move, unable to run...

His breath sped up and even though he could feel the extra oxygen he was provided, it didn't seem to be enough.

_Tommy hit him in the chest, sending the chair toppling over and through the floor, splinters biting angrily through Connor's skin even as gravity claimed him. He didn't feel the landing, just the sudden suffocating pressure all around his body. Rubble holding him down. Then something cold touched his arm and Connor's eyes snapped open in fear. Only to be faced with Tommy's dead eyes._

A choked scream escaped his throat but just then a light permeated the darkness, pulling him from his personal hell.

Cold air touched his skin as a nurse cut off his clothes and Connor was back in Baghdad, with Will barking orders, nurse Rachel setting up the monitoring and a technician preparing the portable x-ray. He must've lost some time, because there was an IV in his arm and he could hear the beeping of machines that didn't sound any happier than Will.

For a moment the poking stopped as everyone stepped back for the x-ray. Unfortunately for Connor it wasn't long enough. Will was running a pen down his foot, checking his reflexes or whether he could even feel that. Connor did and moved accordingly to Will's delight. That however ended as soon as Will focused on his chest and abdomen. Connor wanted to take a look himself, wondering just how much bruising was visible. He couldn't even tell if there were broken ribs, because everything just _hurt_. Even with the drugs they were already giving him, he knew there was something seriously wrong. So when Will started palpating his abdomen, Connor knew it will be bad.

He wasn't mistaken. When Will checked Connor's left flank, he gritted his teeth to stop himself from biting his tongue. He could do this, Connor thought. He could though it out and get it over wi-

Just then, Will moved to his right side and it was as if something exploded inside Connor. He cried out, legs and arms instinctively trying to curl into a ball and protect the damaged parts. But he was strapped down and the effort just made it all the more painful. Connor felt tears running down his face as he moaned and couldn't even feel ashamed for that. All he wanted was for someone to knock him out, to stop this misery. He wished for sweet unconsciousness, but his own body seemed to be against him.

Will pulled away with a grimace and spoke to the nurse urgently, then turned back to Connor and put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. All Connor could do was try not to weep openly. He was so tired of the pain, of the whole ordeal. He still felt the gripping fear that this wasn't real, that he was still trapped under the rubble with Tommy.

Will was talking at him but Connor wasn't really aware of that. All he could hear was his own heart beating wildly inside his chest, working just a bit too hard.

There was a sudden commotion in the room and Connor saw Ava appearing right in front of him, grasping at his hand and asking a myriad questions from Will. Behind her stood Cornelius Rhodes, face as pale as the day his wife jumped off the roof. He was speechless and Connor wondered what he was thinking. He wondered if the look of worry and fear on his father's face was real.

He wanted to open his mouth and ask, but he couldn't. Everything was turning hazy and his eyes slipped closed even though he wanted to keep them open. He felt the panic gripping him again, but whatever was slipped inside his IV had started to work. The pain seemed to dull and with it came the pull of sleep Connor was unable to fight off.

* * *

Cornelius was pacing the waiting room, still fuming about the fact he was kicked out of the treatment room. When Halstead got the call and the confirmation that it was indeed Connor in that collapsed building, Cornelius felt his heart clench tight. There was a moment when none of them knew if Connor was still alive. Cornelius was suddenly overwhelmed by regret and the feeling of loss. He and Connor had a complicated relationship ever since his mother passed away. At first Cornelius put it down to Connor's innate stubbornness. It took several years to realize that his own actions might have been complicit in the troubled relationship. When Connor returned from Riyadh, Cornelius saw the chance to fix things between them, but Connor seemed to hold onto a grudge like a pit-bull.

Cornelius admittedly wasn't innocent in the situation. He tried, but he was too set in his ways. Too proud to bend even an inch and it seemed like every time he and his son met, it was thunder and lightning. His criticism of Connor's previous girlfriend didn't help. Maybe he should have let the issue die, but the whole relationship with the girl seemed just a bit too similar to what Cornelius had experienced with Connor's mother. He wasn't about to let his son make the same mistake as him. So even though they got into an argument, Cornelius was unabashedly happy when he learned that Robin had left. He wasn't sure what exactly happened, though he was aware it had changed his son in some way. The new car, the casual flings... it was all too familiar to his own behavior. The only difference was that Connor seemed to have gotten over it, with the help of Ava.

Cornelius liked Ava. She was a strong woman who knew what she wanted and went for it. Right now, she wanted his son and was ready to do anything to keep him close. She wasn't above to ask for his help, but she didn't beg and bend for it. Simply said, she gave an offer he couldn't refuse. Which frankly impressed Cornelius.

He was even more thankful for her now as Connor was rushed to surgery. While Ava wasn't the one working on him, she made sure to keep Cornelius informed. Still, the wait was long and even the VIP waiting room Cornelius was exiled to didn't offer much comfort. There was no alcohol anywhere in sight. He could care less about the TV or the comfortable couch when he kept pacing around the room as a caged lion.

The relief he felt upon learning that Connor was alive and on his way to the hospital dissipated the moment he saw his son in that hospital bed. His face was bruised, covered in blood. Will Halstead told him it wasn't Connor's blood, that there was no open head injury that could be the source of all that sticky red. No, his son was bleeding inside, dying right before his eyes. He could still hear the echo of Connor's pained scream that sent both Ava and him running towards the treatment room.

The fact that Connor had a bullet graze on his arm was just the cherry on the top. Someone had _shot_ his son, most probably trying to kill him. Cornelius felt his legs go weak. He was too close to losing him and he still could. If the surgery went wrong...

Cornelius shook his head and ran a hand through his hair. One look at the clock on the wall told him Connor was on the table for close to two hours now. Last he heard from the theatre, they were still trying to find the bleed. Cornelius supposed no news right now was good news, but it was hard to believe it. He stopped in his pacing and pulled out his phone. Maybe he should call Claire and let her know about Connor. But it was early where she was and Cornelius wasn't sure how to even start that conversation. He pondered the thought for about a minute, wishing to hear Claire's voice more for his own reassurance than anything else. But that was selfish. What could she do from so far? Only worry. With a sigh, he put the phone away. He would call her once the surgery was over and he knew what to tell her.

Once again he was left with nothing but his mind for company. Cornelius didn't like that. He didn't want the time to imagine what horrors his son went through or think about how this affected his future. He didn't want to think about ridiculous arguments between them or the fact his son might die hating his own father.

When the door opened, Cornelius looked up hopefully but also with fear. Was it good news or bad? He let out a disappointed sigh when he saw it was the detective and not a doctor or Ava coming in to tell him the news.

"I'm happy to see you too," Jay commented dryly then gave a half apologetic shrug. "Sorry. Was a long night."

"You think so?" Cornelius snarled back with a raised eyebrow. The two stood there facing each other and Cornelius was struck with the realization that he was letting out his frustration on the wrong person. Even worse, he was in the same face off and on the defensive as he used to be with Connor. Letting out a breath, he ran a hand over his face, muttering his own 'sorry'.

Jay seemed to understand though. His shoulders also relaxed a bit and he sat down in one of the armchairs, pointing for Cornelius to sit down too. It looked like there were some things that needed to be discussed.

"I've stopped by the desk on the way. Looks like they are still working on Connor." Which translated into 'good news'.

Cornelius nodded, grateful for that info.

"He is in good hands," Jay kept reassuring him and Cornelius thought he must look awful for the young man to do so.

"Thank you. But I'm sure that's not why you came here."

"You're right," Jay sighed. "We have some new information about the whole kidnapping."

"The boy that called 911. Was he... was he a part of it?" Cornelius was of two minds about the boy. He was thankful that he called help, but if he had anything to do with what happened to Connor... well, let's just say Cornelius wouldn't feel all that generous anymore.

"I'm afraid so. His brother was the one behind the kidnapping, but we have reason to believe that the boy was involved as well. His name is Eric Harrow. His brother was Tomas. Do the names ring any bell?" Jay was looking at him expectantly and Cornelius's first reaction was to shake his head and frown. He never heard those names before. But as he kept repeating them in his mind, something felt familiar.

"What about Joshua Harrow? That was their other brother."

Cornelius felt like someone kicked him in the gut. He knew _that_ name. But that couldn't be.

"He's dead, isn't he?"

He was pretty sure that was one of the things Connor held against him. His mother's death and Joshua.

"Yes, he is. I don't know the particulars about what went down between Connor and Joshua, but it seems that the older brother was holding a pretty hard grudge against him, especially after their mother died and he was left to take care of Eric. When they saw you and Connor on the photo from a charity event, he decided it was time to act on it."

"Connor... that wasn't his fault. He was just a stupid kid and I did what had to be done to keep him safe. That was over fifteen years ago. Why now?" Cornelius was shaking his head in disbelief. When Halstead asked him before if Connor had any enemies, he should have thought of that. He should have said something. But honestly, the thought of Connor's kidnapping having anything to do with his childhood friend didn't even occur to him.

"They needed money," Jay spoke, answering his question. "Apparently, the house where Connor was found was serving as their squat after they ran out of money for rent. There's also evidence that Tom was an user so he might've just needed it for a fix." Jay shrugged, the motivation seemingly logical to him. Or maybe he had just seen too many things and became cynical, Cornelius thought.

"Connor... he was shot. Were they... were they ever planning to let him go?"

"We are not sure about that. Eric didn't tell us all that much. His brother's death hit him hard. But as far as Eric knows, they wanted to make the exchange and leave the city. He at least wasn't planning to kill Connor."

"Then why the hell did they beat him, shoot him and... I don't even know what happened that the firefighters had to dig him out from under rubble!"

"Looks like Connor tried to escape," Jay said and Cornelius didn't know what to feel. There was a rush of pride that his son was a fighter, that he didn't give up and however shortly managed to get away. But that pride was quickly quenched by anger and fear. Of all the stupid things to do. Why did Connor have to try and play hero once again? All he had to do was wait! Cornelius would have gladly paid the damn money. What happened in that house that caused his smart son to risk his life so stupidly?

Cornelius didn't have the energy to try and figure out an answer to that. He leaned over, rubbing the back of his neck to will away the tension headache and wishing for a strong drink. Or good news. Preferably both.

"Do you at least know if there was also someone else? Or do I have to worry about Claire being in danger as well?"

"Eric said there was no one else involved, at least as far as he knew. Tomas was trying to keep his brother out of it as much as possible. But we are pretty confident he is telling the truth."

"At least something," Cornelius muttered then his eyes once again veered towards the clock on the wall. Only ten minutes passed. The whole night felt like eternity.

"Do you need me to call someone for you?" Jay asked and Cornelius shook his head. There was really no one he would bother at this time of night, or whose company he would appreciate except Claire. And he already decided not to call her.

"No, thank you. I'll just have to wait."

Jay nodded and stood.

"I'll keep in touch about the investigation. Connor is a tough guy. He'll pull through."

Cornelius nodded, hoping the detective was right.

He was once again left alone with his own thoughts for company. At one point a nurse popped in, just to ask if he needed anything and tell him that the surgery was still going on, there was nothing new to report. Sharon Goodwin also stopped by, horrified by what occurred and assuring him they will have to up the security, once again. Cornelius didn't even have it in him to shout or threaten to sue the hospital for lax safety precautions. He felt too numb. Goodwin seemed understanding. Shortly after she left to inquire about his son's state, a nurse brought him fresh coffee. Cornelius scorned at it, but then she winked and said it was stronger than it looked. Something for the nerves. Cornelius took a sip and gave her an appreciative smile. Sharon obviously knew what he needed a bit of a kick and managed to procure some alcohol.

When the door opened half an hour later, Cornelius was half expecting the nurse or Goodwin. Instead there was Ava in her hospital scrubs. Thankfully there was no blood on her. Cornelius wasn't sure how he would've handled seeing his son's blood on someone else's clothes right now.

He was frozen where he stood, trying to read from her face. Her eyes looked red, but that might've been just from being tired. Cornelius really hoped it wasn't from crying. When she gave him a small smile, he felt as if the weight of the world had fallen from his shoulders.

"He's alive?" he asked, wanting to reassure himself.

"Yes, he pulled through," she said but her tone was tense and Cornelius noted a slight tremble. Her whole body seemed to be shaking a little.

"What happened?" he asked and found himself walking towards Ava, needing to know everything. When he reached her and put a hand on her shoulder, Ava's facade broke and she let herself be pulled into a hug. "Is he okay?" Cornelius asked even as he was offering comfort. Ava nodded into his shoulder and Cornelius sent a silent thanks upstairs.

"He should be alright," Ava said, her breath hitching. Cornelius gave her a moment, then moved them both towards the couch.

"What's wrong then?"

Ava shook her head, running a shaking hand over her eyes. She took a few deep breaths, composing herself. She wasn't here as Connor's doctor but as his friend, but she was still trying to remain as professional as possible. Cornelius was glad for that.

"He suffered serious bruising of the abdomen. One of his kidneys had a small rupture. We thought that was the source of bleeding, but he was still losing blood even after it was repaired. Dr. Cheng was still looking when his blood pressure dropped and... his heart stopped."

Cornelius was glad he was sitting down.

"But he's-"

"He's okay now. We managed to get him back," Ava reassured him. "Dr. Cheng found the source of the bleeding. It was a liver laceration. She was able to repair the damage and stop the bleeding."

"Thank God," Cornelius sagged back on the couch in relief, feeling like weeping himself but holding it in. Maybe once he was back in his house, with a whole bottle of scotch, he could let go. Not now.

"What about other injuries?"

"Bruises and cuts mostly. Two broken ribs and the broken arm. Luckily it's a clean break. With some physiotherapy, it shouldn't affect the function of his hand."

Cornelius knew that was what would be the most important to Connor. He needed his hands, he was a surgeon after all.

"He also suffered a concussion, we will be keeping an eye on that. Lots of contusions from the fall."

"There's something else too?" Cornelius asked when he saw the still worried look on Ava's face.

"The place he was found in..." she started, then grimaced as if the thought itself made her sick to her stomach. "It was a dump. The EMTs that brought him in said there were needles lying all around. There's no telling if he came into contact with them when he fell."

Cornelius figured out where this was heading and blanched.

"You think... he could've contracted something? From a dirty needle?"

Ava sighed.

"There is a possibility. But... you don't have to worry about that. Connor is up to date with most of his vaccinations. He will still need to get on some post-exposure prophylaxis meds for HIV, hepatitis B and C but... if they start being administered within the first 72 hours after exposure, he should be okay."

Cornelius nodded, hard pressed for words. He was furious about the whole situation, his head reeling about the fact it was all connected with something that happened over 15 years ago. Right now though there was only one thing on his mind.

"Can I see him?" He had to make sure his son was alright. He needed to see him breathing, without the blood on his face. Most of all, he needed Connor to wake up and make sure he knew just how much he scared his father.


	10. Chapter 10

Coming back to consciousness was a slow process. It was a bit like a dream. Connor was aware that at some point he was in recovery, feeling cold and confused. There were familiar faces around, asking questions and calming him down. Connor let the words sooth him back to sleep.

What followed was hardly restful. Connor was only half aware when they were moving him to post-op, but the motion translated into a nightmarish memory of the fall. Only instead of the landing, Connor kept falling into darkness, his only company a pair of judging, hateful eyes.

First time he truly came to was several hours later and it wasn't slow at all. Something wet was dabbing at his face and all Connor thought was 'blood'. Tommy's blood, right on his face. Connor's eyes snapped open and his arm reached up to brush away the wetness. He was expecting darkness to meet him. Instead there was Ava, looking at him a bit startled, yet hopeful. Connor saw that he was clutching her hand that was holding the wet sponge. Connor blinked, confused.

"What-" he tried, but his voice cracked. His throat hurt and his mouth felt like the driest desert.

"You had a spot of dirt the nurse didn't notice," Ava said softly, her eyes searching his face. Connor wasn't sure what she wanted to see, but she probably found it, because there was a smile on her face. "You're really awake."

"Yeah," Connor muttered back, feeling stupid. His brain was trying to put together what happened, why was he lying in a hospital bed and why was Ava looking at him that way. As if he had just returned from a long fight. It took a small tug for him to realize he was still clutching Ava's hand and he quickly let go, his arm falling back to the bed. He was so damn tired and didn't understand why.

"Son?"

Connor just now realized he and Ava weren't alone. Nope, his father was there as well, sitting on a visitor chair near the foot of the bed. His clothes were ruffled and there were bags under his eyes. Connor frowned, because he haven't seen his father in a state that wasn't impeccable for a very long time now.

"Dad? What-" his voice broke and he swallowed with a grimace. Ava was already there with a spoon of ice chips and Connor thought he couldn't appreciate her any more than in that moment. He let out a sound that was almost obscene as the ice chips melted on his tongue and the water soothed his throat. He didn't really want to think why it was so sore, or why the rest of his body felt all kinds of bruised and broken. Maybe it had something to do with the fact his father was standing next to his bed, a hand laid carefully on the blanket covering his legs.

"What's going on?" Connor finally asked, feeling absurdly proud about the fact he managed a whole sentence. Such an accomplishment from a cardio-thoracic surgeon. Ava and his father exchanged a look and Connor could feel a shiver running down his spine. He saw shared worry between the two of them and there was the lurking memory, slowly emerging from the haze.

"What do you remember?" Ava asked and he knew she was trying to use her professional tone, but the slight tremble told Connor this was more. That maybe he didn't really want to remember what landed him here after all.

"I don't remember..." he wanted to finish the sentence and be it true, but he couldn't. When he closed his eyes, he saw darkness and something else. A ghost from the past, hiding in the shadows. He felt the pull of gravity and his hands instinctively clutched at the blankets. The beeping of the heart monitor picked up a bit, but Connor didn't pay any attention to that. Everything came back in a rush and he wondered how he could have forgotten at all. Must've been the drugs, he thought, then shivered. He had enough of drugs to last a lifetime.

When he opened his eyes, it was Ava's worried face checking the monitors and his father speaking his name urgently. Connor blinked.

"I'm okay," he whispered and it seemed as if Ava didn't hear him at all. But Cornelius paused and with a weary sigh sat down in the chair right by Connor's bed. Ava fumbled with the IV's, then gave Connor a frown.

"Please, stop scaring me like that. I had enough of that in the OR."

"OR?"

"You coded on the table," she said offhandedly, while pretending to check the cast on his arm.

Connor blinked, unsure how to take it.

"I was dead?"

"For a minute or two, yeah," she said and finally looked in his eyes. Her own were glistening with unshed tears and Connor wanted to reach out, but she was on the side with his casted hand. Ava seemed to understand though as she squeezed the tips of his fingers peeking out of the cast.

"But you're alright now. Dr. Cheng found the bleeder. Though I will probably stop by and donate some blood in the following days. You used up quite a lot of it."

Connor knew Ava was just trying to lighten the mood, but he could feel the reality of everything that happened hitting him hard. He swallowed, then gave a small nod.

"Uh... is... is there any lasting damage?" He was almost afraid to ask. His first instinct as a doctor was to make a self assessment, take a look at his chart and well, take in all the machines he was connected to. But as a patient, he just felt worried that the extent of his injuries might've been more severe than he thought and maybe life changing.

Ava must've seen that worry in his eyes. Or maybe the heart monitor betrayed him.

"You'll be fine, Connor," she assured him and went on to give him the important details. She wasn't putting on kid gloves, but Connor could tell she left a lot out. Especially what happened on the operating table. But as long as the information wasn't vital for him now, he could wait a bit longer to hear about it. He was even glad for the shortness of her report, as the need to focus was wearing him out. When Ava reassured him that he should have full function of his arm as well, Connor let himself relax for the first time in what seemed like years, even though it was barely a day.

"How long was I... missing?" Connor asked finally and his eyes slipped from Ava to his father. Connor still couldn't figure out why the man was still there. After all, based on what Ava told him, he was going to be alright.

"Only a few hours," Cornelius answered and there was a familiar tension in his voice. His whole posture looked like a taunt spring. The man wanted to let something off his chest, but obviously didn't dare with Ava present.

For a moment Connor entertained the idea that he would fake sleep and postpone the obvious father-son talk that awaited him. But then he remembered what Tommy told him and thought that maybe, just maybe he also needed to ask his father something.

But first, he needed to know what happened to Eric.

"The other kid... what happened to him?"

"He was arrested on the scene," Cornelius said and his tone clearly said he thought it was not enough. Connor knew what that meant and his heart rate once again rose. Ava put a calming hand on his shoulder.

"You okay, Connor?"

Connor turned to her, giving her a halfhearted smile.

"Yeah. I just... I think I need to talk to my father."

Cornelius raised an eyebrow, but didn't speak. He was obviously leaving this up to Connor, which was something. Ava on the other hand looked uncertain. Connor knew she had a strange relationship with his father, though he also knew there was no reason for jealousy. If nothing else, his father seemed to finally come to respect Connor's relationship for what it was. Ava had the chance to communicate with the older Rhodes without all the baggage of their common history and seemed to be willing to facilitate some attempts at their reconciliation. Though Connor wasn't sure how realistic that was with what came to light during his kidnapping.

"Are you sure? Maybe you should get some rest first," Ava said, trying to give him an out if he changed his mind. Connor just shook his head.

"It's fine, Ava. Just a few minutes, please."

Ava nodded. She gave Cornelius a warning glance, then said she was going to grab some coffee and inform Connor's actual attending and the nurses that he was awake.

Both Connor and Cornelius were silent for a moment, the only sound the beeping of the monitors and the typical hospital noise. Somehow, none of them felt like being the first one to speak, but in the end it was Connor's own body that decided. When he tried to unsuccessfully hide a yawn, his eyes blinking to stay open, Cornelius cleared his throat.

"Come on, dad. Spill it," Connor said with a sigh. He wouldn't even know where to start opening the can of worms and if his father wanted to start, he was more than happy to let him.

Cornelius seemed a bit startled, but then he regained his confidence.

"The police said that you tried to escape. Is that true?"

Connor blinked. Of all the things his father could have asked, he didn't expect this.

"Yeah. I did," he said, matter of factly and watched as his father's cheeks turned red, jaw clenching in obvious displeasure.

"Why... why would you do something so stupid?" Cornelius blew out angrily and Connor just opened his mouth, but shut it closed again, because his father obviously wasn't done.

"I had the money ready! I was willing to pay it in exchange for you but the second call never came. Do you even... of all the stupid things to do!" Cornelius kept ranting, ignoring the nurse peeking in worriedly. Connor just waved her off, mouthing 'it's okay'. He knew better than to interrupt his father and it was almost... pleasing, to see him so worked up in his behalf. Well, almost. Connor reminded himself of what his father had done to Joshua and the traces of understanding were gone. His face went still.

"Maybe I didn't think you would pay up," Connor spoke and Cornelius froze mid rant.

"How can you even say something like that? You're my son, Connor. I couldn't care less for the blasted money."

Somewhere deep inside, Connor felt just a bit of relief upon hearing that. But he didn't let it distract him from his own point.

"It doesn't matter anyway," he said offhandedly. "Tommy was planning to kill me anyway. He told me so."

Cornelius blanched and it seemed like all the fight had left his body. Connor wanted to feel triumphant about it but he couldn't. He was trying to get his father to drop his mask for so many years. Now all it took was him dying for a minute or two. He couldn't feel any satisfaction from that.

"He told me something else too," Connor continued and his voice turned cold. "Is it true you paid off Joshua's father so Joshua would take the blame? That you let him rot in there, even though you promised him a good lawyer?"

There was a stifling silence and Connor felt his own body tense. That however caused all the aches and pains to come back to life, breaking through the haze of drugs. He probably should've just gotten that sleep or at least let the nurse check the dosage of his pain meds. But before he could rest, he needed to know if his father was as complicit in Joshua's death as Tommy was suggesting.

The look on his father's face threw Connor off balance however. He didn't seem guilty, he didn't even seem regretful. Cornelius Rhodes was looking him straight in the face, with straight shoulders.

"I paid him off, yes, that is true. I also offered him the services of our lawyer, but the man refused. Once you were off the hook, I didn't see a need to pressure him about it."

Which roughly translated into 'Once you were free, the deal was off. Joshua was someone else's problem'.

Connor gritted his teeth, feeling the boiling anger deep inside.

"You... you aren't even sorry for that?" Connor asked, his good arm curling protectively around his midriff, as if he could keep the anger from spilling over, or keep the pain at bay. The gesture didn't seem to work for either, though at least Cornelius took some notice. He sighed.

"Maybe we should indeed leave this for later. You seem to be in pain."

But Connor wasn't about to let it go. He growled and grabbed his father's arm when Cornelius stood to get the nurse or leave, he didn't know which.

"You didn't answer, _dad_." The emphasis wasn't kind and Cornelius flinched at the tone, but sat back down.

"No, I am not sorry."

Connor opened his mouth, ready to tear into his father, disbelief and rage making his breathing quicken and the pain grow. Cornelius raised a placating hand though, stopping him.

"I'm not sorry, because I wasn't about to let one stupid mistake destroy your future."

"Joshua also made only one mistake," Connor growled, but Cornelius shook his head.

"We both know that's not true, Connor. It was your friend who suggested you buy the drugs, and based on what his father told me, that wasn't his first attempt. He already caught him smoking weed a few times."

Connor blinked, because he didn't know anything about that. Not like that changed anything. He was just starting to realize that Joshua might have kept more things from him than he thought.

"I wanted you to get into a good University. I wanted you to keep away from people like Joshua, who were pulling you down, Connor. I did what I had to do... and Joshua's father did the same."

"The hell he did," Connor snapped back and pulled up a knee, trying to alleviate some of the pain. He knew he should have called the nurse and just let her knock him out, instead of arguing with his father. But this seemed to be the most frank conversation the two of them had in years and Connor was determined to clear some air. His father seemed to be inclined to do the same. Nothing like a bit of dying to break the ice.

"You should have helped him anyway. He was my friend." The plaintive tone surprised even Connor. He put it down to the pain and hoped his father wouldn't notice.

"I was first and foremost your father, Connor. I'm not debating this with you right now, you are obviously hurting, so I will get the nurse." Cornelius stood up, but before he left the room, he leaned over Connor and put a gentle kiss on the top of his head, then whispered in his ear.

"I'm not asking for your forgiveness son, because I don't feel guilty. I would do it again. Just as I would have paid that money without hesitation."

"It shouldn't be like this," Connor protested as Cornelius stepped back, still a bit stunned from the uncharacteristic gesture of his father. "Other people are important too."

Cornelius shrugged.

"You'll be a father one day, Connor. You'll understand then that there are some things parents must do for their child, whatever the consequences."

Cornelius didn't give Connor a chance to respond. He left the room, leaving his frustrated and confused son alone. But only for a minute, as a familiar nurse walked in briskly and started checking Connor over, reprimanding him for not calling her as soon as he started hurting.

Connor managed to procure a small smile as she was injecting something into his IV.

"You know doctors," he mumbled. "Worst patients."

"Truer words were never spoken. But don't worry, we will take good care of you, Dr. Rhodes," she said with a smile and helped him into a more comfortable position. Connor felt the drugs start working almost immediately and he sank into the soft cushions, thinking over what his father said. _How_ he said it.

By the time Ava returned, Connor was already drowsing. But he could still hear her sit down on the chair next to his bed. He could still feel her fingers gently brushing hair off his forehead, the other hand slipping into his palm. He fell asleep with confusing thoughts about desperate people who would do anything for their loved ones.

 


	11. Chapter 11

The days spent in the hospital felt like eternity but also rushed past unbelievably fast. Connor hoped his perception of time would be back to normal once he was back home and most importantly, back to work. But that would take a bit of time. Thanks to the broken arm, Connor was looking at over six weeks of being benched from surgeries, which irked him to no avail. True, his other injuries would keep him recuperating for most of that period, but still. Almost two months without touching a scalpel. He would have to buy some fruit and pull out his old training kit, just so he wouldn't get out of practice with the needle. But those were small concerns in the big scheme of things. Physically, Connor was on the mend. His whole body seemed to be one big bruise, but the internal injuries were healing up nicely. The worst was the blood loss he suffered. Even though he got plenty of transfusion, he felt still weak and tired easily. As a doctor, he knew it was normal. As a patient... he was impatient and often moody. Especially with how things were on the outside.

Despite their 'argument' that first day when Connor woke, Cornelius surprisingly kept coming for visits as often as his work schedule allowed. Sometimes he just came to say hi, to check on how his son was doing. Sometimes he sat down and talked about things. Business, politics... rumors. Despite Connor's nudging, they never revisited the issue with Joshua. Whenever Connor tried to steer the conversation there, Cornelius turned it around and asked details about his kidnapping. Connor wasn't ready to talk about that however, so he clammed up and the visit was often cut short. Still, for some unfathomable reason, at least for Connor, his father persisted. Once Claire returned from her travels, she was of course a daily visitor too and Connor found those moments to be the ones that fled by quickly.

The problem he had was usually when all the visits ended and he was left alone with his thoughts for an hour or two between physiotherapy and other 'activities'. He probably should have used that time to get some sleep, but frankly, Connor was a bit scared of sleeping nowadays. Most often than not his dreams took him into dark, stifling places where he was surrounded by strangers milling around, bumping into him, giving him judging looks. When he tried to escape, he always stepped into nothingness and kept falling... When he woke up, he was covered in sweat and trembling.

He was trying to hide it, but of course the nurses had noticed and added sneaky little notes to his chart. Funnily enough, the nights didn't seem to be such a problem. Connor was sure he could thank the meds for that. Or maybe he just didn't remember waking up in the middle of the night feeling like the ground was ripped from under his feet.

The visit from Dr. Charles few days into his hospitalization shouldn't have come as a surprise then. Connor had just returned to his bed after a short walk around the room. He knew it was important to move around after the surgery but the pain of the effort and the weariness that came shortly after was making it anything but easy. He was in a foul mood all day long, mostly because he had spent the morning recounting his kidnapping to the police. So when he snapped at _Ava_ of all people for telling him to take it easy, he knew the best thing would be to sleep until the next day. Ava ignored his foul mood, helped him back to bed and left to get back for her shift. Connor felt guilty even before the door closed after her. Maybe he shouldn't have, he thought when barely an hour later Dr. Charles walked into his room and took a seat next to his bed.

At first there was idle chat and Connor thought maybe this was just one of those friendly visits. But he should have known better.

"I heard the police had stopped by today," Charles said after a moment, his tone curious and friendly. But Connor saw the searching look and put two and two together. He sighed and ran a hand over his face.

"Who sent you, Ava?"

Charles chuckled.

"Actually, it was one of the nurses. I won't disclose her name though," Charles said with a smirk and Connor rolled his eyes. It must've been Eileen. She was the one who kept making notes in his chart about the nightmares after all. "But it doesn't really matter. I was planning to stop by anyway."

"As a friend or as the head of psychiatry?"

"Can't I be both?"

Connor gave him a look that spoke volumes.

"I appreciate your concern, _Dr._ Charles, but it is unnecessary. I'm fine. I think a couple of nightmares after what happened are perfectly normal."

"Yes, they are," Charles nodded in agreement. "I just wanted to make sure that's all it would stay. A couple of nightmares."

"What else should it be?" Connor frowned, the fingers on his casted hand twitching, trying to recreate the soothing finger exercises he used to do before surgeries.

Charles shrugged.

"You had a traumatic experience. That can cause different changes. I should know. After I was shot, everything seemed... off. The nightmares, the flashbacks. Just walking out of the hospital felt like I was going into a war zone. But the worst were the moments when I was just lying around, doing nothing. My mind kept replaying everything on a loop and it felt like it would never end."

Connor listened to Charles recount his own experiences from over a year ago, and could only nod. He knew all of that. He was actually dreading the moment he would have to step in that parking lot again.

"How did you overcome it?" he asked softly.

"I talked to my psychiatrist," Charles admitted with a little smirk. Connor frowned.

"I'm not telling you to spill your gut to me, Connor," Charles continued placating. "I'm here if you want to talk. Or I can give you a reference to someone else who specializes in post traumatic therapy. All I'm saying is... don't try to tough it out. Don't bottle it up, because that won't help. It will just cause more trouble in the long run."

Connor sighed, leaning his head back on the pillow and looking up at the so familiar ceiling. He knew Charles was right. While Connor didn't think the biggest issue was the kidnapping, there were things that troubled him. Things that should have been resolved many years ago. Like his guilt about Joshua's death, his father's involvement. The looming court case with Eric and the boy's future. After the visit from the police, that was the biggest thing troubling him. But who could he talk to about it?

While Ava was there, offering her shoulder and ear, Connor knew she simply couldn't be impartial. She wasn't showing it overtly, but the kidnapping had traumatized her as well. Connor saw that in her sudden doting, almost mother henning behavior. Connor's father was out of question as well. While the man wanted to talk, Connor knew his stance on Eric was simple. The boy hurt his son and as such, he should pay. Connor had a fight ahead of him just to convince his own father not to involve the lawyers in an attempt to get Eric the highest possible charge. That left Connor only his sister, who he instantly crossed out. There was no way he would tell her _anything_ about what happened in the past or during the recent kidnapping. No, there really wasn't that much of a choice.

"I don't want to talk to a complete stranger," Connor admitted. "I would need to explain too much. And... I think I need to make some decisions within the next few days."

Charles raised a quizzical eyebrow.

"That leaves me with you, Dr. Charles. If your offer stands."

"When do you want to start?" Charles asked and Connor turned his face from the ceiling to the psychiatrist. He didn't want to lose his courage or change his mind.

"How about right now?"

Charles gave him a soft smile and made himself comfortable in the hospital chair.

"Is there anything specific you want to address today?"

"Yeah, there is. I need to figure out how to help Eric."

* * *

"Are you sure you want to do this now?" Ava asked worriedly when Connor sat down on the passenger's seat of her car. She had pulled up right in front of the hospital entrance and even though Connor felt a chill run down his spine when he glanced towards the parking lot, there was no terror clutching his insides, no flashbacks. Maybe the conversations with Charles helped after all.

"Yeah, I'm sure," Connor replied with conviction. He was finally leaving the hospital and heading home, to his own bed. But first, he needed to make a little detour. Gingerly reaching up and pulling the seat belt over his torso, he was dismayed when Ava handed him a pillow to brace his chest.

"I don't want to bring you back just because I had to step on the break pedal," Ava explained and helped him maneuver the pillow so that he could barely feel the seat belt.

"Thanks. Though this isn't giving me much confidence in your driving skills," Connor joked and received a slap on the arm as Ava settled behind the wheel.

"Careful, I'm in charge of dinner tonight as well," she warned cheekily.

"So no pizza tonight?" Connor pouted.

"I was planning lasagna, but if you keep this up, I'll just order some chicken soup. I know you enjoyed it immensely at the hospital," she grinned and Connor grimaced. He had enough of soups for the next month at least.

"I'll behave," he promised and the look Ava gave him was at the same time doubtful and fond. Connor wished he could just lean over and kiss her in that moment, but that would so not go over well with the current state of his body. So he had to satisfy himself with giving her an equally fond look and a smile.

Despite his joking about her driving skills, Ava made sure to drive carefully over bumps and tried very hard not to make any sudden breaks. Connor appreciated the effort, even though by the time they reached their destination, he still felt all kinds of sore.

Ava parked the car and looked at him.

"Do you want me to come with you?"

Connor took one look at the grim looking prison gates and shook his head.

"No. I can handle it, thanks. It might take a while... if you want to grab some coffee?" Connor gave her an out, feeling bad for taking up her time in such a way, but Ava just shook her head and smiled.

"I've brought my laptop. As good a time to do some paperwork as ever."

Connor nodded and with a sigh stepped out of the car.

Just walking through the entrance and being led down the halls was depressing as hell. He couldn't imagine how Eric was feeling, stuck behind these walls, thinking about his grim future. For a moment Connor was almost grateful to his father for keeping him out of prison or juvie. At the same time, he felt bitter upon thinking Joshua wasn't so lucky.

He was led towards the visitor's room and was thankful that at least it was a room with tables and chairs, without the glass pane dividing the prisoners from visitors. Eric was already sitting behind one of the desks, looking glum and uncertain. Connor gritted his teeth. Just seeing the kid in the jumpsuit made his stomach roll. Eric looked too young to be here... too innocent. At least they put him into the ward with minors and not adults, but looking around the room at some of the other kids, Connor wasn't sure how much of a comfort that was. They looked rough around the edges... raised on the street.

Shaking off the gloomy thoughts, Connor made his way towards Eric's table. He sank onto the chair with a grimace, glad for the reprieve.

Eric didn't speak. He just glanced up quickly, taking in Connor's presence, then looked back down at the table. Connor wasn't sure if he was angry, scared or feeling guilty. Probably a combination of all three.

"Hey," Connor was the first to speak after a moment of silence. "Thanks for seeing me."

At that Eric raised his head, frowning.

"Why? Did you come to gloat?"

"No. I wanted to see how you're doing."

Eric snorted, his look encompassing the room, landing on the armed guards by the door.

"How do you think? My brother's dead and I'm in jail. All because of something that happened when I couldn't even talk."

Connor sighed. He knew this wouldn't be easy and he understood Eric would be angry.

"I'm sorry," Connor said and Eric blinked.

"What?" He looked puzzled.

"I'm sorry, about what happened with Joshua. I should've taken more responsibility for my own actions, but I didn't. Trust me, I regret that every day."

"That won't get him back thought," Eric muttered, his voice tinged with sadness instead of anger. "Either of them."

"I know. There was... I couldn't do anything for Tommy, down there. I'm sorry for that too."

"Was he... was he even alive when you told me to call help?" Eric looked up and his eyes shone with tears.

"Yeah. He... he passed when you left."

"Did he suffer?"

Connor shook his head.

"I don't think so."

"I should have stayed. I should've tried to get down-" Eric was working himself up.

"No," Connor shook his head. "You couldn't have helped him. If you'd stayed... I would be dead too."

Eric bit his lips.

"What do I care!" he snapped back, but Connor saw it for what it was. An attempt to look tough, to protect himself for what was to come. For the repercussions.

"I think you do care."

Eric mulishly shook his head.

"You tried to help me there. You didn't let me choke, you even stopped Tommy from beating me to death there."

"I _shot_ you!" Eric snapped, then winced as his outburst earned him a reprimand from the nearby guard and several curious glances from the other visitors and prisoners.

"You were scared," Connor said. "Just like you are now," he added in low voice. Eric's face paled, but he didn't answer.

"What do you want from me?" he asked instead when Connor just sat there in silence.

"I want to help you."

Once again, Eric stared at Connor in disbelief, then settled on a sarcastic laugh.

"You're joking."

"I'm dead serious."

Eric shook his head.

"Did you get your brain scrambled in that fall?"

In fact, Connor did, but that was beside the point now. Although he could've done without the growing headache. A quick look at the watch told him he would need to speed this up as well, before Ava started worrying too much.

"Look, I know it's hard to understand. But Joshua was my friend and I regret what happened to him. I... I really don't want the same thing to happen to you."

"So what, you're doing this out of pity?" There, the anger and indignation was back.

"No. This is me doing what I should've done 15 years ago," Connor said, leaning over a bit to alleviate some pressure on his stomach muscles. Maybe he really should've left this for a few days later, but there was no time.

"What do you even want to do?" Eric asked after a moment and Connor felt like that was the first step in the right direction. Encouraged, he let a small smile slip on his lips.

"Your preliminary hearing is in two days, right?"

Eric just nodded.

"Let me... let me get you a good lawyer."

Eric snorted.

"Wasn't that what your father offered to my brother?"

Connor's face darkened at the reminder. He nodded.

"Yes. But I'm not my father and I'm not a kid anymore. I stand by my word."

Eric still seemed unconvinced.

"What _is_ your plan? It's not like I can plead innocent. I was there. I fired the gun."

"But you didn't tell the cops everything, did you?"

Eric slowly shook his head. No, he didn't tell them all that much. He was in such a shock when he learned about Tommy's death that he refused to speak. Except for some basic things. Like if there was anyone else involved. If they were planning to kill Connor. If he knew about his brother's plan beforehand. The only thing Eric told them was that there was no one else there. That they didn't want to kill Connor. Of course Connor knew all that. Jay let him in on the details from the interview.

"The lawyer will tell you what to say in front of the judge."

Eric still looked doubtful.

"What are you trying to achieve? I was involved. There's no way they're letting me off... and even if they were, what would I do? I can't go back to school. I don't have a place to live and I doubt anyone would want to give me a job. I would be back on the street or in some foster care." Eric shook his head. "I'm starting to think I'll be safer in jail at this point."

Connor could understand that. He spent a lot of his free time thinking about Eric's options and knew that what he was planning to do could backfire. If Eric wasn't the person Connor thought he could be, helping him would just put both of them in danger. If Eric wanted to take revenge... Connor shook off that thought however. He could see all the emotions playing out on Eric's face, he could hear the tone of his voice. There was no sign of the hate towards his person that Tommy had shown. Mostly just regret over poor life choices.

"What if we could get you into a special program?"

"What program?"

"There are special camps, for troubled kids. Wait, let me finish please," Connor said when he saw the protest already forming on Eric's lips. "There is one camp that is run by a friend of a friend, so to speak. It's a farm in Kentucky, taking care of abandoned or abused animals. Mostly horses. I could get you a free spot."

Eric looked on in disbelief, then shook his head.

"So what, I would work my ass off in some 'conversion' type of camp? Then what? Get kicked out on the street?"

"It's nothing like a conversion camp," Connor protested. "It's a good place... with good people. Most of all, it would give you a chance to finish school. Your records would be sealed and once you turn eighteen... you would have a clean slate to start again. You can even earn some money with the work and that would be put into a fund for when you become an adult, so you have something to fall back on."

Eric sat there in silence, too stunned to speak.

"Are you serious? Or is this some kind of a joke?"

"I'm dead serious," Connor said. "I can't promise everything will go off without a hitch. It all depends on the judge. But if I get in a good word for you and you do as the lawyer tells you... this is your chance, Eric."

"Why? Why the hell would you do that for _me?_ "

"I know what it's like to make a mistake at your age. I had someone who gave me a chance to get past it. I don't want you to pay for your mistake your whole life. I owe it to Joshua to try and help you. The only question is... will you let me?"

Eric was biting his bottom lip. It was obvious he was overwhelmed and Connor wanted to give him all the time in the world to make the decision, but he couldn't. If they wanted any chance of succeeding, they had to start making preparations right now. He already had the lawyer on standby and the person leading the camp was also waiting for the call. But he could hardly proceed without Eric's consent.

Eric looked around the visitor room, at the bored looking guards, at the barred window. Then he locked eyes with Connor, searching for an answer to some unspoken question. Connor held his gaze without budging until Eric blinked.

"Okay."

"Okay?" Connor repeated, making sure he heard right.

Eric nodded.

"Yes. I... want to take that chance. I want to start anew."

"Good," Connor said with a relieved smile. "I'll be there to help you then."

**THE END**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this is the end. I hope you enjoyed the story. I'd like to thank to all who left a comment or kudos, it was very much appreciated :) Hope to see you soon at my next story :) Cheers and have a wonderful 2019!


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